The Beauty Within
by writerchic97
Summary: Belle Anderson, a bookish, beautiful misfit, dreams of the day she can leave behind life in the small town of Pequeno, New Mexico and find a place for herself in the world. But when her father goes missing, her quest to save him will change her world - and teach her that true beauty is found within.
1. Chapter 1

You want to know something funny? I heard this entire chapter in my head in the voices of the people who played these roles. So now I've got a British Maurice, a real French baker, a director-narrator, and a Beast, Lumiere, and part of an ensemble who are German. Oh, theatre, the ways you've screwed up my brain...

* * *

_Once upon a time, in the desert of New Mexico, an orphaned young boy lived in a magnificent mansion. Although he had everything his heart desired, the boy was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the mansion, and offered him a single rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the boy sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. _

_The boy tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the mansion, and all who lived there. _

_Ashamed of his monstrous form, the boy concealed himself within his mansion, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom for many years. If he could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. _

_As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast? _

* * *

It was a beautiful summer's morning in Pequeno, New Mexico. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, and the town was beginning to wake up. The town center, with its little shops, was just starting to see its first customers when the girl walked up the street and into the square. She was tall and graceful, with an almost anime-like quality to her dark liquid eyes and smooth black hair. She was clad in a Pequeno High sweatshirt, a tank top, boy's cargo pants, and old workboots, and she was carrying a very thick book. A small gold locket was bouncing against her chest.

She sighed quietly as she walked along the street. _It's always the same,_ she thought.

_"Little town, it's a quiet village,"_ she sang.

_"Every day like the one before_

_"Little town, full of little people_

_"Waking up to say..."_

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour."

She nodded politely as the crochety baker, Benoit, passed her, heading for the bakery with his wife. _"There goes the baker with his tray like always,_

_"The same old bread and rolls to sell."_

She sighed. _"Every morning just the same_

_"Since the morning that we came to this poor provincial town."_

"Good morning, Belle," Benoit grunted.

Belle put a smile back on her face. "Oh, good morning, _monsieur_," she said.

A grunt. "And where are you off to?"

"The bookshop," Belle said. Benoit's face immediately lost any spark of interest it had held. "I just finished the most wonderful story about a beanstalk, and an ogre, and -"

"Yes, yes, that's nice," Benoit muttered. Then he yelled over his shoulder, "Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!"

Marie, who had stopped to chat with a group of people outside the little jewelry store, waved him off grouchily. Belle shook her head and moved on, opening her book to page through one last time.

_"Look, there she goes, that girl is strange, no question," _said Jeannie, who was outside the jewelry store with Marie.

Marie nodded in agreement. _"Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?"_

Patricia raised her eyebrows superciliously. _"Never part of any crowd -"_

_"Coz' her head's up on some cloud,"_ interjected Norman, the store owner.

They all snickered. _"No denying she's a funny girl, that Belle."_

_"Bonjour," _sang Christopher, the fishmonger.

Gaby smiled and nodded at him. _"Good day."_

_"How is your family?"_

_"Bonjour," _Heather said, at the butcher's.

The butcher, Slade, replied, "Good day."

_"How is your wife?"_

"I need six eggs," squawked Cathy, hurrying across the square.

"That's too expensive!" Heather exclaimed.

Belle thumped her book shut, trying not to scream at the sameness of it all. _"There must be more than this provincial life!"_

"Ah, Belle!"

In her distraction, she'd wandered straight into the doorway of the bookshop. Belle smiled and went inside. "Good morning, monsieur," she said. "I've come to return the book I borrowed."

"Already?" asked Ernie, the proprietor. He smiled. Belle was an odd girl, but she was a good one.

Belle smiled sheepishly. "Oh, I couldn't put it down," she said, putting her book back where it belonged and scanning the shelves. "Have you got anything new?"

Ernie laughed. "Not since yesterday."

"Oh, that's all right," she said, running her finger along a line of books. "I'll borrow - this one." She pulled it off the shelf and smiled down at the cover.

"That one? But you've read it twice!"

Belle laughed. "It's my favorite!" she told him. "Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells... A prince in disguise..." She sighed, letting the hand she'd been waving an imaginary wand with fall to her side.

Ernie smiled. "Well, if you like it all that much, it's yours," he said.

Belle's head snapped up. "Oh, but sir -"

"I insist!" Ernie said, crossing his arms.

Belle looked down at the book, and back up at Ernie. "Thank you," she said, beaming. "Thank you very much!"

"I'll see you here at eight tomorrow morning to start your first shift!" he called behind her as she left the shop. She waved in acknowledgement and opened up the familiar pages.

She passed by Tommy, Matt, and Anselm, a group of older teens who were hitting on the grocer's daughters, Vanessa and Deborah. They glanced her way as she walked by, nose buried in her book, and all raised eyebrows at each other.

_"Look, there she goes, that girl is so peculiar,_

_"I wonder if she's feeling well,"_

_"With a dreamy, far-off look,"_ sang the girls.

The boys rolled their eyes. _"And her nose stuck in a book,"_

_"What a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle."_

Belle honestly didn't notice them. She had gotten lost in the story. She sank down on a bench in the square, holding the book close.

_"Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because, you'll see,_

_"Here's where she meets Prince Charming -"_

She grinned.

_"- but she won't discover that it's him til' chapter three!"_

Done with her fangirling for the moment, she returned to the story.

Outside the bakery, a few girls glanced over and shook their heads. _"Now, it's no wonder that her name means 'beauty'," _they said.

The passing knot of Vanessa, Deborah, Tommy, Matt and Anselm nodded. _"Her looks have got no parallel."_

Over by the bookshop, Sara, Chesney, and Monica snorted. _"But behind that fair facade, I'm afraid she's rather odd."_

_"Very different from the rest of us -"_

_"She's nothing like the rest of us -"_

_"Yes, different from the rest of us is Belle."_

There was a loud bang from just outside the square. A lanky shape with a mess of blond hair flung itself in, yelling, "I've got it, I've got it!"

The dead duck he was after hurtled to the earth, five feet to the right of where he was dancing to try to catch it. Lefou, a birdbrained rising freshman, scowled at it and picked it up, just in time for another figure to enter the square.

This one was taller than Lefou, and much more filled out to boot. Dark-haired and clad in one of his many polo shirts and a pair of khakis, Gaston, a boy who had graduated with Belle the past week, Pequeno's celebrity star quarterback and heir to the hunting store franchise his family operated out of the town, swaggered in off the street Lefou had just left. Lefou scrambled over to him, almost dropping the duck in his haste.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "You never miss a shot, Gaston! You're the best hunter in the whole world."

Gaston ran a hand through his hair and gave a crooked grin. "I know."

"No beast alive stands a chance against you," Lefou said, and grinned. "And no girl, for that matter."

"It's true, Lefou," Gaston agreed. "And I've got my sights set on that one." He pulled Lefou closer and pointed out Belle with the butt of his rifle.

Lefou looked at Belle, and then back at Gaston. "The inventor's daughter?"

Gaston nodded. "She's the one! The lucky girl I'm going to marry."

"But she's -"

"The most beautiful girl in town," Gaston said, shooting Lefou a subtle glare.

Lefou, who was about as subtle as Gaston's gun, wrinkled his nose. "I know, but..."

"That makes her the best," Gaston said sharply. He pulled Lefou up by the collar of his T-shirt. "And don't I deserve the best?"

"Why, of course you do!" squeaked Lefou. Gaston let him go and paced towards Belle, eyeing her.

_"Right from the moment when I met her, saw her,_

_"I said 'she's gorgeous,' and I fell:_

_"Here in town there's only she _

_"Who's as beautiful as me,_

_"So I'm making plans to woo and marry Belle."_

There was a small commotion inside the bakery, and then three girls came hurtling out: Liesel, Laura, and Veronica, varsity cheerleaders who had all been crushing on Gaston for as long as anyone could remember. They squealed.

_"Look there he goes - _

_"Isn't he dreamy?_

_"Monsieur Gaston - _

_"Oh, he's so cute!"_

Inside the bakery, Benoit scowled and covered his ears at the noise. _They could make a dog whistle with those squeals._

_"Be still my heart,_

_"I'm hardly breathing!_

_"He's such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute!"_

Belle could feel Gaston's eyes on her, although she hadn't been able to hear him. She got up and walked away, her nose in the book for cover even though she wasn't really reading anymore. The sounds of the square were swirling up to a crescendo.

_"Bonjour -"_

_"Pardon -"_

_"Mais oui -"_

_"Good day -"_

_"You call this bacon?"_

_"What lovely grapes!"_

_"Some cheese -"_

_"Ten yards -"_

_"One pound-"_

_"'Scuse me -" _

_"I'll get the knife -"_

_"Please let me though!"_

_"This bread -"_

_"Those fish -"_

_"It's stale -"_

_"They smell!"_

_"Madame's mistaken -"_

_"Well, maybe so!"_

_"Good morning!"_

Belle looked up at the sky pleadingly. _"There must be more than this provincial life!"_

_"Just watch, I'm going to make Belle my wife!"_

_"Oh, good morning -"_

Belle had looked back down at her book, not seeing the words at all. The townspeople all glanced towards her.

_"Look, there she goes, a girl who's strange but special_

_"A most peculiar mademoiselle."_

_"It's a pity and a sin -"_

_"She doesn't quite fit in -"_

_"'Coz she really is a funny girl _

_"A beauty but a funny girl_

_"She really is a funny girl, _

_"That Belle."_

Belle snapped her book shut and turned to the square. Every head immediately snapped away, overly intent on its own business. She sighed and headed down the street that led home, opening her book back up again and bringing it up to hide her face.

It wasn't until she had very nearly run into him that she realized someone was standing in her way. She had to look up to see the face, even though she knew who it was already by the polo shirt.

"Hello, Belle," Gaston said, flashing a crooked grin.

Belle hid a frown. "Bonjour, Gaston," she said tightly, and tried to step around him. "Excuse me." He let her pass, but snatched the book out of her hands. She turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. "Gaston. May I have my book, please?" She held out an expectant hand, but he didn't respond.

"How do you read this?" he asked, flipping through the pages. "There's no pictures!"

"Well, some people use their imagination," Belle replied, grabbing for the book. To her surprise, Gaston gave it back.

"Belle," he said as she started to head off, "It's about time you got your head out of those books and started paying attention to more important things."

Belle stopped dead in her tracks. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to control the flood of smart remarks she could have retorted with. When she turned around, Lefou was doing a stupid little dance and pointing to Gaston. "Hint, hint," he stage-whispered.

"Like you?" she asked coolly, ignoring Lefou's antics.

"Exactly," Gaston said, pleased she'd gotten to the point so quickly. "The whole town's talking about it..." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas, and...thinking..."

Belle pulled away, staring incredulously. "Gaston, you are positively primeval!"

"Why, thank you," Gaston said. He put an arm over Belle's shoulder. "What do you say we walk over to the bar and take a look at my football trophies?"

"What do you say...we don't?" Belle said, slipping out of his grip.

He turned to her, still with the crooked grin on his face. "C'mon, Belle, I think I know how you feel about me."

Belle smiled tightly. "You can't even imagine."

Gaston tried to put his arm around her again, but she pulled away. "Gaston, please. I have to get back and help my father!" She stalked away.

"That crazy old fool?" said Lefou. "He needs all the help he can get."

"Don't talk about my father that way!" Belle snapped, turning on him.

Gaston clunked him on the head. "Yeah, don't talk about her father that way."

Belle gave them both withering glares. "My father's not crazy," she said. "He's a genius!"

At that moment, there was a sound like a small explosion from up the street. Belle's eyes went wide. "Papa!" she exclaimed, and ran off towards the source of the sound.

Gaston snorted. "Some genius."

Lefou scratched his head and looked up. "What's a genius?"

* * *

Belle ran into the hardware store, through the main room, and into the back where her papa had his workshop. The room was full of smoke, and the smoke detector was beeping like crazy. Maurice was in the middle of the room, on a chair, trying to make the beeping stop. Belle opened up all the windows and turned on a fan to waft the smoke out. As it cleared, she saw his invention smoking from the side. It looked like something had blown up.

"Papa, are you sure you're all right?" Belle asked Maurice as he put the chair away.

"I'm fine," he said distractedly. "But I can't for the life of me figure out why that happened! If this isn't the stubbornest piece of - ow!" He'd kicked the side of the machine.

"Papa," she said.

"I'm about to give up on this hunk of junk."

Belle shook her head. "You always say that," she said, pulling off her sweatshirt. It was warm in the workshop.

"I mean it this time," Maurice said. "I'll never get this bone-headed contraption to work."

"Yes you will," Belle said. "And you'll win first prize at the fair tomorrow."

He harrumphed.

"And become a world-famous inventor," Belle said.

He paused. "You really think so?"

Belle smiled. "You know I do," she said. "I always have." She hugged him.

He smiled. "Well, I'd better get cracking," he said. "This thing's not going to fix itself." He lifted the flap under the singed area. "Now, let me see... Where did I put that dog-legged clencher?"

Belle glanced around the room and spotted the tool on the bench. She picked it up and passed it to him. "Papa."

He smiled and started working. "So, tell me," he said, "did you have a good time at the market this morning?"

"I got a new book," Belle said. It was a nice, neutral answer.

Maurice laughed. "You do love those books."

Belle smiled sadly. "Well, they take me away to wonderful places, where there's adventure, and mystery, and romance...happy endings..." She bit her lip. "Papa, if I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?"

"Don't I always?"

Belle hesitated. "Do you think I'm...odd?"

Maurice appeared from behind the machine, a pair of buglike goggles over his eyes. "My daughter? Odd? Where would you get an idea like that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged noncommittally. "It's just...well, people talk."

He looked at her seriously. "Well, they talk about me, too." He came over to her and took her hand comfortingly. _"No, I'm not odd, nor you_

_"No family ever saner _

_"Except one uncle who..._well, maybe let that pass." He shook his head.

_"In all you say and do, you couldn't make it plainer:_

_You are your mother's daughter - therefore, you are class."_

Belle smiled a little. _"So I should just accept I'm simply not like them?"_

_"They are the common herd,"_ Maurice said. _"And you can take my word:_

_"You are unique - creme de la creme." _He smiled and squeezed her hand.

_"No matter what you do, I'm on your side. _

_"And if my point of view is somewhat misty-eyed,_

_"There's nothing clearer in my life than what I wish and feel for you - _

_"And that's a lot._

_"No matter what."_

Belle smiled. _"No matter what they say," _she said, _"you make me proud. _

_"I love the funny way you stand out from the crowd!"_

Maurice smiled back. _"It's my intention_

_"My invention_

_"Shows the world out there one day_

_"Just what we've got -"_

_"No matter what!"_

Maurice linked his arm through hers. _"Now some may say all fathers just exaggerate -"_

_"That every daughter's great?" _Belle asked.

_"You are,"_ Maurice replied. Belle smiled.

_"And every daughter tends to say her father's tops," _she said.

_"She pulls out all the stops to praise him,"_

_"And quite rightly."_

Belle smiled for a moment longer, but the market reentered her thoughts quickly. One bit of encouragement would never be enough to make years of that go away. She looked away sadly.

Maurice pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back gently. _"No matter what the pain,"_ he said, _"we've come this far._

_"I pray that you remain exactly as you are._

_"This really is a case of father knowing best -"_

_"And daughter, too," _Belled interjected, smiling slightly.

He smiled. "You're never strange."

_"Don't ever change."_

_"You're all I've got - _

_"No matter what."_

Belle smiled and hugged Maurice tightly. He held onto her for a moment longer, and then pulled back a little. "Well," he said, "what do you say we give her a try?"

"All right," Belle said, backing away a bit as Maurice adjusted the machine, flipping levers and pushing various buttons.

"Okay," he said. "Stand back - here we go!" He pushed a final button, and the machine sprang to life, huffing and puffing like a dragon.

Belle gasped. "It works!"

"It does?" Maurice asked. "It does!"

Belle wanted to jump up and down, but she settled for hugging him. "You did it, you really did it! Papa, you're going to win first prize at the fair tomorrow, I just know it!"

Maurice was smiling bemusedly. "Who knows? Maybe I will, at that!"

They'd just finished loading the machine into Maurice's truck when Belle jumped. "Oh! I almost forgot," she said, and ran inside and up the stairs to the living floor. She grabbed something off of the foot of her bed, ran back out, and held it out to Maurice. "I made you a scarf for good luck."

It was an ugly thing, patched and loosely knit out of at least a dozen different kinds of yarn. Belle had grown up in a hardware store, after all, and while she could build and wire and do mechanical work as well as anyone, handicrafts were a little out of her league. But Maurice smiled and took it and put it around his neck. "Well, now I know I'll win," he said. "And then we'll be able to send you to the best college, and visit all those places you read about in your books."

Belle smiled and hugged him.

Finally, he pulled back. "Well, I'd better be going," he said.

"Goodbye, Papa," Belle said.

"Goodbye, Belle."

He got into the truck and started the ignition. As he drove off, Belle called after him, "And be careful!"

Maurice waved at her. Belle smiled and watched until he was out of sight.

* * *

It wasn't long before Pequeno was out of sight and Maurice was alone on the road. He had a map laid out on the dashboard, since he'd used parts from the GPS to build the machine and hadn't had the time to buy another one. He hummed as he drove along.

_"First prize is nearly mine._

_"It's quite my best invention -_

_"So simple yet complex, _

_"So massive yet so small._

_"This triumph of design will be my old age pension..." _

But when, hours later, he was still in the middle of nowhere, he changed his tune.

_"That is, provided I can find the fair at all..."_

He frowned. "I must have missed a sign... I should have paid attention."

And then there was a loud sputtering noise, and the engine gave out.

"Drat!"

He put on the brakes and hopped out of the cab. But try as he might, he couldn't seem to figure out what the problem was. Everything under the hood looked perfectly fine. The gas tank wasn't empty. The truck just seemed to have stopped.

And then, from very close by, he heard a howl.

_"That's not a nightingale, and not a mating call... _Wolves!" he exclaimed. It was bizarre - there weren't many wolves in New Mexico - but he had managed to stumble on a local pack. And they were close.

He saw one, and then another. And another. And another. Four in total, all large, healthy, and not looking happy about the human in their territory.

Maurice backed away as slowly as he could. The wolves followed. They were closing in.

_I don't think wolves are supposed to behave like this,_ he thought. _What's going on here...?_

He stepped on a rock and slipped, and the wolves charged. Maurice scrambled up, grabbing for the only thing he had - the scarf. He held it in front of him and used it like a whip, but the wolves didn't seem cowed. They kept coming, and he turned and fled. There was a tug on the scarf, and he let go unthinkingly. He was more worried about escaping the wolves.

Then suddenly he found himself at the edge of a ravine. Down at the bottom, along a river, there was a huge house. Maurice's heart leapt. If he could just get down there -

One of the wolves snarled, almost right behind him, and Maurice jumped. His only option was down, and he prayed his strength wouldn't give out. He started down the ravine, groping desperately for hand- and footholds. The wolves seemed momentarily stymied, but by the time he was halfway down he could hear them following along the least vertical part of the ravine.

He was shaking when he reached the bottom, but the wolves were on his tail. He ran for the mansion, which was only a little ways away. He pummeled the door. "Let me in! Let me in!"

And, with painful slowness, the door creaked open, revealing a dark interior. Maurice threw himself inside and slammed the door behind him.

Then he looked around. The front hall seemed deserted; there wasn't any sign of the person who'd opened the door for him.

"Hello?" he called. "Hello?"

In the darkest corner of the hall, right behind the door, two extremely bizarre figures were standing in the shadows. The shorter, thicker one whispered, hardly making a sound. "Now you've done it," it hissed in a distinctly British accent. "I told you not to let him in!"

"We could not leave 'im for ze wolves!" said the taller, leaner figure.

Maurice looked around. "Is anyone home?"

"If we're quiet, maybe he'll go away," whispered the shorter one, sounding strangled.

"Is someone here?" Maurice called, louder.

The taller figure started to move out, but the shorter pulled him back. "Not a word, Lumiere. Not one word!"

"I don't mean to intrude, but I've lost my way and my truck's broken down. I need a place to stay for the night!"

"Poor fellow," whispered the taller figure. "Cogsworth, 'ave a 'eart. Monsieur, you are welcome 'ere!"

Maurice snapped around. "I heard that! Now I know there's someone here," he said, "and I'll thank you to step out where I can see you!"

Lumiere stepped out of the shadows and lit his wicks. "'Allo!"

Maurice stumbled back from the most shocking sight of his life. The person who stood in front of him was human, but it wasn't at the same time. He was a fusion of man and candelabra - a tall, straight figure with arms up, lit candlesticks for hands, and a hairstyle that was turning into a giant candle on top. His suit was the same metallic shade of gold which shimmered underneath his peachy skin.

And then the other most shocking sight stepped out: a man who seemed to have had almost all of his body turned into a giant mantle clock. His mustache had taken on a very pointed appearance as well, and his hair seemed to be forming the numbers around a clock's face.

"And goodbye," said Cogsworth, pushing Maurice towards the door.

"W-w-w-wait!" Maurice squeaked. "You're a clock! And you're talking!"

Cogsworth frowned. "Astonishing, isn't it? And quite inexplicable. Goodbye." He pushed him towards the door again.

"Cogsworth!" exclaimed Lumiere. "I am surprised at you. Where are your manners?"

"We have got to get him out of here before the Master finds out!" Cogsworth hissed.

Maurice wasn't paying attention to anything they were saying. He was examining Cogsworth, shaking his head in awe. "This is incredible!" he said. "How is this accomplished?" He continued with his examination, turning Cogsworth around and feeling the clock, which seemed like real wood, but also the arms, which seemed to be flesh under the brown suit sleeves. Cogsworth let out little squeaks of protest, several "stop it - stop that"s, and a stream of laughter as Maurice probed into the ticklish area beneath his arms. But when he opened the door in front of the pendulum and gears on Cogsworth's front, Cogsworth went a shade of red that would have put a tomato to shame and slammed the door shut. "Really, sir, do you mind?" He sounded outraged.

"Well, I'm stumped," Maurice said, shaking his head. "It must be some sort of new-fangled gadget."

The outrage in Cogsworth's voice went up about another five levels. "I, sir, am not a _gadget_."

"I'm sorry," Maurice stammered. "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to be rude, it's just that I've never seen a talkin...a tal...a..ahCHOO!"

He didn't have time to turn away, and so he sneezed directly onto Cogsworth's front. "Bless you," the clock-man said dryly, taking out a handkerchief and wiping off his door.

Lumiere shook his head. "You are chilled to ze bone, monsieur," he said, moving in. "Come, warm yourself by ze fire." He led Maurice away, one candle-arm behind Maurice's back and one up at a low angle to his body.

"No!" Cogsworth said. "I forbid it! Lumiere, as head of the household, I demand that you stop _right there_!"

Lumiere didn't so much as look at him. Cogsworth scurried after him into the living room, where a bright fire was blazing in front of a tall chair. Lumiere led Maurice directly to the chair, pulling it closer to the fire. Cogsworth went pale. "Ohh, no... Not the Master's chair!" he stammered, panicky. "I'm not seeing this. I'm not seeing this!"

Maurice settled himself into the chair. As he did, he heard a voice from across the room. "Ooh la la," it said. Maurice looked up. A young woman with long ginger ringlets was standing in the doorway with a blanket in her hands. "What 'ave we 'ere? Do my eyes deceive me, or is zis - a _man_?" She bounced across the room. Her long feathery skirt moved oddly, more like it was part of her than something she was wearing. "It's been so long since I've seen a - a _real _man." She glanced at Lumiere coyly. "No offense, Lumiere. Bonjour, monsieur," she said, turning her attention to Maurice. "Mind if I sit 'ere?" She perched on the edge of Maurice's lap.

"Oh," Maurice said. "Well, hello..."

Cogsworth stormed over, took hold of the woman's arm, and pulled her off. "All right, this has gone far enough. I'm in charge here -"

"Coming through!" sang someone from another doorway, and a motherly-looking woman with an unusually rotund figure - a figure which bore a strong resemblance to a teapot - came into the room, rolling a cart in front of her that had a large teacup perched on top. "How would you like a spot cup of tea, sir?" she asked. "It will warm you up in no time." She smiled down at him, settling one hand on her hip and the other into the air at an odd angle.

Maurice blinked. "Oh," he said. "Er, yes, please..."

"No!" Cogsworth said, whirling on her. "No tea! He'll be here all night! No tea."

The woman nodded and smiled, then turned around and leaned over to the teacup. Warm brown liquid streamed into the cup. "There you are."

Maurice blinked again, and then decided to stop trying to figure out what was going on in the bizarre mansion. At least he was warm and away from the wolves. "Just what I need," he said gratefully. As he moved to pick up the teacup, it turned and beamed at him. He jumped and let out a surprised squeak. The cup turned towards the woman. "I think I scared him, Mama," it said in a young boy's voice.

"Hello there, little fellow," Maurice said. His voice was higher than normal. "What's your name?"

"Chip," said the teacup, turning back.

Maurice saw the chip in the cup's rim and shrugged. "Figures," he said.

The ginger woman shook out her blanket and scurried back over to Maurice. "Care for a blanket, monsieur?" she said, draping it over his shoulders. She left her hands there and smiled. "I just _love _older men." She glanced over her shoulder at Lumiere.

He took a step away, bringing his chin up pretentiously. "Babette," he said. "You are always trying to make me jealous. Well, it's not going to work zis time."

Babette whirled on him indignantly. "Me? What about you wiz Simone?"

Lumiere snapped around. "Jaques -"

"Michelle -"

"Pierre -"

"_Veronique _-"

Lumiere opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped, caught in memory. "Veronique," he moaned, a look of erotic pleasure crossing his face.

Babette huffed in frustration and stormed out of the room. Lumiere followed after her imploringly, but was stopped halfway across the room by Cogsworth. "Lumiere, listen to me," he said. "We have _got _to get him out of here! Do you have any idea what the Mater will do if he finds out we've let a stranger into the mansion?"

"Calm yourself, Cogsworth," Lumiere said soothingly. "Ze Master will never 'ave to know!"

And then the entire mansion shook with a furious roar.

Everyone in the room went white as a sheet.

"As I was saying," Lumiere said, smiling weakly "'e is bound to find out sooner or later."

"Should we hide, Mama?" Chip asked.

Lumiere shook his head. "No, no, no, remain calm," he said. "Zere is absolutely no reason to panic."

"Lumiere's right," Cogsworth said shakily. "There's absolutely no reason to panic." He crossed the room and touched the blanket. "May I borrow this, please?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled it off Maurice's shoulders and over his head.

"There is a stranger here," growled a rumbling voice. It echoed off the walls. Maurice looked around wildly but couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

"Master," Lumiere said, "allow me to explain. Ze gentleman was set upon by wolves -"

"Who let him in?"

Cogsworth turned around and lifted the blanket. "Master, may I take this opportunity to say I was against it from the start!"

He yanked the blanket back down as the voice growled, "Who dared to disobey me?"

"Oh dear," said the teapot woman.

"You have all betrayed me!"

Padded footfalls and the clicking of claws heralded the entrance of a figure into the room. It crossed to the chair and leaned down, breathing angrily. "Who are you?" it demanded.

"M-Maurice!" Maurice stuttered, wincing away.

"What are you doing in my mansion?"

"I lost my way in the desert!"

The figure turned away, growling. "You are not welcome here!" it roared.

"O-okay, I'l - I'll just be on my way -"

He looked up to find the figure back at his side. Its bestial face, contorted with rage, glared down at him from amidst a tangle of long, tawny hair like a ratted lion's mane. The figure was huge - lanky, but at least seven feet tall, and all its fur was bristling. Maurice flinched away.

The beast growled softly. "It's hideous, isn't it?"

"No, I-I-I wasn't -"

"You've come to stare at the Beast, haven't you!?"

"I meant no harm, I was merely looking for a place to stay!"

The Beast looked down at him, nostrils flaring. "I'll give you a place to stay!"

He roared, bringing up a massive paw, and then everything went black.

* * *

Hi, all! I'm back again with another freakish fanfic.

My community theatre put on a production of Beauty and the Beast around the Christmas holiday, and the urge to put it in writing has just gotten too strong to resist. I've borrowed most of the characterization from our show, and the looks of most of the characters, too. Belle, the Beast, and Gaston are the only ones I've changed drastically - all three of them were adults in our show (Belle and Gaston both had several children!) and there are some things I wanted to play with in Belle's character. If you recognize the names of the ensemble characters, then I'd just like to say that it was a fabulous show and I loved working with all of you ^_^ And if you don't, well, I hope you enjoy this fanfiction!

- Writerchic97


	2. Chapter 2

So you know the line in "Me" where Gaston says, "Pumpkin, extend with me" (If you don't, you will by the end of the chapter!)? Well, we were all in rehearsal one day - it must have been close to opening night, because I had nothing to do with that song but I was still in the theatre - and our Gaston and our Belle were going through it. When he sings that line, though, our director stops him and asks, "Do you know what you're saying there?"

The answer is no.

Everyone busts out laughing. The man has a wife and three children - one of the children is in the house, watching, and I'm pretty bloody sure _he _understood what Gaston was supposed to be saying there. So the director has to explain to the grown man exactly what _extend with me_ means when spoken to the hot girl you're trying to wife.

Hanging round the theatre makes me feel smart ^_^

* * *

_"Waaaaahhhhhh!"_

"It can't be true! I don't believe it!"

"Why would you go and do a thing like that!?"

"I can't bear it, I simply can't bear it!"

Liesel, Laura, and Veronica trailed Gaston down the street, bawling their eyes out. Liesel took hold of his arm pleadingly. "Gaston, say it isn't so..."

"It's so," Gaston said. He was too pleased with himself to worry about the cheerleaders' renewed wails, but eventually the sound got on his nerves. Besides, they were right outside Belle's house, and he didn't want her to know beforehand that he was coming. So, putting on his best soothing manner, he said, "Girls..."

They all looked up at him. There were tears flooding down their cheeks; Veronica was still hiccuping.

He smiled reassuringly. "I'm just getting married," he said. "Don't tell me a little thing like that's going to change the way you feel about me."

As he knew it would, it made the girls' minds latch onto another idea. "Oh no!" Liesel exclaimed.

"No!" Laura said, sounding shocked at the very idea.

"Never," Veronica said, shaking her head fiercely.

Gaston smiled. "And we'll still have our little...rendez-vous, won't we?" Anyone with the slightest knowledge of French would have winced at the way he butchered the words, but the girls were captivated.

"Oh yes!"

"Yes!"

"Always."

"Good," Gaston said, rubbing his hands together. "Now, if we're going to have a wedding, I guess I'd better propose to the bride!"

It took a second for the words to make their way through the girls' brains, and then they burst into renewed sobs. Gaston shook his head irritably, but kept up a charming face. "Run along, now."

They did, although Liesel looked back when she reached the corner of the street. Then she wailed even louder and ran off after the other two.

Shaking his head, Gaston went to Belle's door and knocked. "Belle!" he called. "Oh, Belle!"

There was a beat of silence, then footsteps, and then a loud crash and several _thumps_. "Oof! Ow! Son of a..." Belle's voice trailed off into an irritated mutter, and then she opened the door.

A half-second later, as she realized who was standing outside, she turned and tried to slam the door shut.

Gaston stuck his foot out to keep the door open. "Hello," he said.

Belle stood still for a second, wondering if she'd still be able to make a break for it. But she concluded otherwise and turned around, fixing a fake smile on her face. "Gaston," she said. "What a...pleasant surprise."

"Isn't it, though?" Gaston asked. "I'm just full of surprises." He took his hand out of his pocket and held it out to her. "For you, mademoiselle."

Belle took whatever it was he was handing her uncertainly, and Gaston looked away with an immensely pleased expression on his face. She glanced down. "A miniature portrait!" she said, almost pleasantly surprised. It was a nice enough gift, she supposed.

Then she opened it up, and her brief expectations fell back down to normal. "Of you. You shouldn't have." She tossed it over her shoulder, where it landed in the pile of hardware supplies she'd knocked over trying to get to the door.

"Don't mention it," Gaston said easily, and turned to look at her. "You know, Belle, there isn't a girl in town who wouldn't want to be in your shoes. This is the day your dreams come true."

Belle found herself torn between laughter and sudden tears. "What could you possibly know about my dreams, Gaston?" she asked, walking past him. The idea that anyone in the little town could know what she really wanted was the most absurd thing she could possibly think of.

"Plenty," Gaston said. She turned back to face him, raising her eyebrows, and made for the door. There was a quick awkward dance as they tried to go around each other, and then Gaston stepped aside to let her pass. But as she did, Gaston grabbed her shoulders and put his arm around them.

_"You've been dreaming just one dream _

_"Nearly all your life -_

_"Hoping, scheming just one thing:_

_"Will you be a wife?"_

Belle froze.

_"Will you be some he-man's property?_

_"Good news! That he-man's me!"_

Belle slipped out from under Gaston's arm and tried to back away into the house. She'd known Gaston was a chauvinistic son-of-a-bitch, but _property_!?

But Gaston took hold of her hands and pulled her around to face him, lit up with his pleasure in dangling what he thought was the gift of a lifetime in front of her, and sang, _"This equation, girl plus man, doesn't help just you!_

_"On occasion, women can have their uses too!"_

Belle yanked her hands out of Gaston's grip, outraged.

_"Mainly to extend the family tree..."_

_"Pumpkin, extend with me." _

He leered down at her, blissfully unaware of the fact that Belle was suppressing powerful urges to throw up and to break his nose.

_"We'll be raising sons galore!"_

_"Inconceivable -"_

_"Each built six foot four!"_

_"Unbelievable -"_

_"Each one stuffed with every Gaston gene!"_

Belle rubbed her temples, shaking her head. _"I'm not hearing this..."_

_"You'll be keeping house with pride -"_

_"Just incredible!"_

_"Each day gratified -"_

Belle's nostrils flared. _"So unweddable."_

_"You are part of this idyllic scene!"_

Belle tried to storm back into the house, but Gaston linked his arm through hers and strolled off. Belle found herself extremely off-balance as her arm was yanked up to the level of Gaston's shoulder. "Picture this," Gaston said, painting his little romantic picture. "A rustic hunting lodge. My latest kill roasting over the fire. My little wife, massaging my feet -"

_Massaging his...eew!_ Belle wasn't easily disgusted, but that was just nasty.

"-while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs. We'll have six or seven!"

Belle swallowed. "Dogs?" she asked in what she already knew was a vain hope.

Gaston dropped her arm, looking surprised. "No, Belle!" he said. "Strapping boys, like me!"

A rush of images connected to having six children - and having them by _him_ of all people - rushed through Belle's head. "Imagine that!" she said faintly.

Gaston suddenly moved and pulled her into a jerky sort of half-tango. She yelped.

_"I can see that we will share _

_"All that love implies!_

_"We shall be the perfect pair,_

_"Rather like my thighs!_

_"You are face to face with destiny..."_

He leaned in, and Belle popped several vertebrae bending away.

_"All roads, they lead to..._

_"The best things in life are..._

_"All's well that ends with me!"_

He spun her out, and she tried to escape his grip, but he pulled her back and into more spins.

_"Escape me, there's no way_

_"Certain as do re_

_"Belle, when you marry..."_

He pulled her up, holding her hands. "So, Belle, what'll it be?" he asked. "Is it yes, or is it oh, YES!"

Belle gaped at him, struggling for something to say that resembled tact. "I...just don't deserve you!" she finally managed. _Really and truly. __I have done nothing to deserve this kind of punishment!_

Gaston shrugged. "Who does?" he asked, turning out and letting go of her hands.

_"Me!"_

Belle rolled her eyes and stalked back to the house. "But thanks for asking!" she said sweetly, and slammed the door shut.

Gaston stood out there for a moment with the slam ringing in his ears. It took several seconds for her response to sink in. He turned slowly and stared at the door. His brows started to furrow down. _That little..._

Three sets of hesitant footsteps approached. A high voice spoke from beside him. "So? How'd it go?"

He turned. Liesel, Laura, and Veronica were standing there with mingled worry and expectation on their faces.

It took a couple seconds for Gaston to get himself under control, and then he tried to smile nonchalantly. "Oh, you know that Belle," he said through his teeth. "Always playing hard-to-get."

As one, the girls' faces went slack with shock. "She turned you down!?" they chorused.

"For now," Gaston said, glancing back at the house. Something hard and cold formed in his chest. "But I'll have Belle for my wife. Make no mistake about that."

And he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Liesel, Laura, and Veronica sighed and turned to watch him walk away. "Well, gee," Liesel said dreamily. "If she turned him down, then maybe I still have a chance!"

Laura and Veronica's heads snapped over. "What?" they snapped. Liesel's eyes went wide, and she tried to dash off after Gaston. Veronica caught her arm and spun, ending with them facing the opposite way. She took off, but Laura caught her and the same thing happened again. The other two managed to run after him while Veronica spun to a stop. She straightened up, looked around, realized the other two were gone, growled softly, and sprinted off behind.

A moment later, the dust cleared. Belle stuck her head out of the door cautiously. "Is he gone?" she wondered aloud.

The street was silent.

Belle left the house, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Can you imagine?" she said. "He asked me to marry him! Me, the wife of that boorish, brainless..." She went off into her best mocking impression of the cheerleaders. _"Madame Gaston! Can't you just see it!?_

_"Madame Gaston! His little wife -_ urgh!" She shuddered.

_"No sir! Not me! I guarantee it!_

_"I want much more than this provincial life..."_

She bit her lip. That had come out much louder than she'd intended, and she didn't need everyone in town hearing her. They already thought she was weird enough. She glanced up and down the street, making sure no one was around. Then she looked up at the sky, blue and endless over the tiny, limited little town.

_"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere!_

_"I want it more than I can tell..."_

She kicked at a rock in the road.

_"And for once, it might be grand_

_"To have _someone_ understand: _

_"I want so much more than they've got planned..."  
_

She sighed and turned back to the house. She ignored the footsteps that appeared at the end of the street until they were coming closer. "Hi, Belle," said a voice. Belle glanced over her shoulder to see a lanky shape with a mop of blond hair. _Lefou_.

She kept going, but Lefou hurried over to her. "Have you seen Gaston?" he asked.

Belle snorted. "You just missed him," she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction he'd gone. Lefou nodded and hurried off, but something had caught Belle's eye.

"Wait a minute," she said, grabbing the end of the ugly, patched thing wrapped around Lefou's neck. "Where did you get that scarf?"

He turned to look at her, surprised. "This?" he asked, tugging at it. "I found it in the desert. Pretty nice, huh?"

Belle was examining the scarf. "This belongs to my father!" she said, looking up.

"Yeah, well," Lefou said, shrugging, "finders keepers."

He tried to walk off, but Belle got a firmer grip in the scarf and made him stop. "Lefou," she said seriously, and he turned, "I want you to think hard and tell me exactly where you found this."

"No," he said, trying to tug the scarf out of her hands. Belle frowned and yanked back, and the forces sent Lefou spinning out, clutching to the very end of the scarf.

"Think," she insisted.

"Somewhere in the desert," he said, scowling. Belle scowled back, and pulled the scarf the other way so he spun back. By the time he reached her, he was tied up in the scarf. Belle got a firm grip.

_"Harder."_

Lefou was several inches taller than her, but he had scrunched down until the top of his scruffy hair was about level with her collarbone. "Near a big canyon west of here, okay?" he whimpered. "About eight hours' drive."

_Eight hours,_ Belle thought. She'd seen Lefou in town after Maurice had left; that meant that he'd gone out there later. _So_...

"Then he's still out there somewhere," she whispered. "Lefou, you have to take me back!"

"Not driving again," he whined. "I only did it 'coz Gaston told me to. I hate driving!"

Belle shook him. "Don't you see, something must have happened to him!" she exclaimed. "You have to take me back!"

"Not on your life!" Lefou snapped, and twisted away. The scarf unwound again, and he tottered dizzily for several seconds. Then he dropped his end and headed down the street.

Belle glared after him. "Then I'll find him myself!" she yelled.

_West,_ she thought, heading inside. _How did he end up going west? We made sure he had a good map, and he's much better with maps than a GPS anyway... Unless he couldn't see it properly... I've been telling him to go get his eyes checked for the past two years! Why didn't he listen?_

She laid the scarf in the workshop, grabbed an atlas and a sweatshirt, and ran into the little garage. She and Maurice had been fixing up an old car - a real hunk of junk, but by this point it was at least drivable. She wouldn't be able to take it over about sixty miles an hour, but if she was careful it would easily last eight hours. Plus, there was a bag of materials inside that could come in handy.

She got in, pulled open the atlas so she could see the right map, and headed west.

* * *

Back at the mansion, Lumiere was being followed by Cogsworth. "Couldn't keep quiet, could we?" Cogsworth was saying. "Just had to invite him to say, didn't we? Serve him tea! Sit in the Master's chair!"

"I was trying to be 'ospitable!" Lumiere snapped. He felt awful for what had happened to the old man. Cogsworth's attitude wasn't helping.

"Rubbish," Cogsworth muttered.

Lumiere looked at him. "Cogsworth," he said. "Can you blame me for trying to maintain what's left of our 'umanity? Look at us!" He snorted. "Look at you!"

Cogsworth pulled himself up as tall as he could. "What about me?" he said irritably.

Lumiere snorted again. "You always were insufferable," he said, "but every day, you become just a little more...inflexible. A little more tightly wound. A little more _ticked _off!"

"Please, spare me the stupid puns," Cogsworth said, turning away.

"At least we are not as far gone as some of the others," Lumiere said, shaking his head. "You remember Michelle?"

It was Cogsworth's turn to snort. "She was always too vain about her looks," he said. "And that's exactly what she's become."

"A vanity," Lumiere said dryly.

"Little drawers, mirror...the works," Cogsworth agreed.

"And poor Jean-Claude," Lumiere said.

Cogsworth glanced over at him. "Who?"

"You remember 'im," Lumiere prompted. "Not too bright, dumb as..."

"A brick?" Cogsworth guessed.

Lumiere raised his eyebrows. "Ze 'ole wall."

"Jean-Claude's a brick wall," Cogsworth murmured.

"Yes, zat's 'im in ze kitchen, be'ind ze stove."

Cogsworth tutted, shaking his head.

Lumiere's tone turned derisive. "And you remember Guillame, ze 'ouseboy?"

"That mealy-mouthed little bootlicker!" Cogsworth said. "I never liked him. He was always grovelling at the Master's feet."

"'E's a doormat," Lumiere informed him, smiling darkly.

Cogsworth chuckled. "Perfect."

Lumiere smiled for a moment longer, then sighed. "It's 'appening faster with some of ze ozzers, but we are not far be'ind," he said. "Slow but surely, as every day passes, we will all gradually become zings."

"But why did we have to get dragged into this whole spell business?" Cogsworth wondered. "It's not like _we_ threw that poor old beggar woman out on her ear."

"No," Lumiere said, "but are we not responsible too? For 'elping to make 'im ze way 'e is?"

Cogsworth inclined his head. "I suppose you're right," he admitted.

Lumiere shook his head, looking at the candles that had used to be his hands. "All I know," he said, "is I will eventually melt away to nozzing. I only 'ope zere is somezing left of me if ze Master ever breaks ze spell."

In a rare show of comradeship, Cogsworth patted Lumiere on the back. "Hold on, old man," he said bracingly. "We've got to hold on."

* * *

It had taken an hour longer than it should have, but Belle had finally found the canyon Lefou had talked about. She followed the footprints and wolf tracks down and up to the door of the mansion. The place looked uninhabited. Nervously, half hoping she wouldn't get a response, she stuck her head in and called, "Hello?"

The call echoed slightly and then died away. It didn't sound like anyone was there. Against the wall, Cogsworth and Lumiere froze.

Belle made her way inside cautiously. "Is anyone here?" she asked, looking around. "Hello!"

There was still no answer. She frowned. It was too dark to explore easily. She pulled a roll of duct tape and a matchbook out of the bag that had been in the car. There was a loose piece of trim around the door; she wrenched it off and wrapped some tape around it. Then she lit the torch, holding it above her head so she didn't breathe in the fumes, and she headed deeper into the mansion.

In the shadows, Cogsworth and Lumiere stared. "It's a girl!" Lumiere breathed as she left.

"Yes, of course, I can see it's a girl," Cogsworth said. Then his eyes went wide. "It's a girl!" they chorused.

"Mademoiselle!" Lumiere called.

Cogsworth grabbed his arm. "Lumiere, let me do all of the talking," he said.

Lumiere pulled his arm away and headed for the door the girl had left through. "Yoo-hoo!" he yelled.

"As head of the household, I should do most of the talking!"

_"Cherie!"_ Lumiere vanished through the door.

Cogsworth hurried after him. "A word! Just one word, that's all I'm asking for!"

* * *

Near the kitchen, Chip hopped over to Mrs. Potts. "Mama, Mama!" he said. "You'll never believe what I saw! Not in a million thousand years! Not in a trillion million thousand years!"

Mrs. Potts smiled indulgently. "Yes, dear," she said.

"No, really," Chip said. "This is the greatest thing. This is the thing everyone's been waiting for since...since...since I don't know when!"

"All right, Chip," Mrs. Potts said, picking him up. "What is it?"

Chip beamed. "There's a girl in the mansion!"

"Bless my soul, wouldn't that be lovely!" Mrs. Potts said, shaking her head.

Chip looked at her. "But it's true," he said. "I saw her!"

"Now Chip," Mrs. Potts said, looking at him seriously. "I'll not have you making up wild stories. Getting everyone's hopes up for no reason..." She supposed she couldn't blame the boy for daydreaming. He'd been so cooped up for so long.

There was a sound from the door, and they looked over to see Babette flouncing in. "Mrs. Potts, did you 'ear?" she asked. "Zere is a girl in ze mansion!"

"See, I told you!" Chip said triumphantly. "And she's real pretty, too."

Babette stopped in her tracks. "Well," she said snappishly, "I don't know about zat."

* * *

Lumiere had lost track of the girl, but he was to ecstatic to care. "Zis is ze one," he said. "Ze girl we 'ave been waiting for. She 'as come to break ze spell!"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Cogsworth said, trying to calm him down. "Let's not be hasty."

But that ship had already sailed. "Oh, isn't it wonderful? After all zese years - oh, 'appy, 'appy day!" He hugged Cogsworth tight and planted a kiss on each of his cheeks.

"Stop it! Stop that!" Cogsworth spluttered, shoving Lumiere off.

Lumiere wasn't at all flustered. "We should tell ze ozzers, _non_?" he asked, and took off.

"Yes," Cogsworth said. "I mean, no. I mean -" He looked around and realized that Lumiere had already gone. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" He took off after the candelabra man.

* * *

Belle had made her way into the cellar of the mansion, thinking she'd check down there before she started to look through the upper floors. She brushed several cobwebs aside as she looked around. "Hello? Is anyone here? I'm looking for my father!"

"Belle! Is that you?"

Maurice's voice, faint and shaky, came from the other side of the cellar. Belle hurried across to find him huddled against the wall next to what looked like a suit of medieval armor. "Papa!" she said, kneeling down in front of him. She tugged him as tightly as she could while still holding the torch up.

"How did you find me?" Maurice asked, letting go.

Belle's hand had slid over top of his. She inhaled sharply. "Your hands are like ice," she whispered. "We have to get you out of here."

Maurice shook his head fervently. "Belle, you must leave this place," he said.

Belle stared. Maurice sounded terrified, and he was shaking all over. "Who's done this to you?" she asked.

"There's no time to explain," Maurice said. "You must go, now!"

"I won't leave you here!" Belle exclaimed. She tried to help him to his feet, and then froze. She'd heard a noise from behind her. Slowly, she rose and turned. "Who's there?"

Whoever it was, they were staying out of the torchlight. "I know someone's there," she said, raising the torch higher. "Who are you?"

"The master of this mansion," growled a voice from the shadows.

Belle's lip curled. "Then you're the one who's responsible for this," she said. "Release my father at once!"

"I am the master of this mansion, and I do not take orders from anyone! Throw her out!" he snapped, and the suit of armor suddenly moved. It grabbed her shoulder in a cold metallic hand.

Belle gasped and yanked out of its grip. "No, wait, please!" _Okay, new plan._ " Forgive me. Please let him out. Can't you see he's not well?"

The voice growled. "Then he should not have trespassed here!"

"But he's an old man!" Belle protested angrily. "He could die!"

"He came into my home uninvited, and now he'll suffer the consequences!"

She realized where the voice was coming from when a huge figure moved in the shadows. She stepped towards it. "Please, I'll do anything!" she said desperately.

"Belle," Maurice said.

"There is nothing you can do!"

"No, wait, please!"

The figure whirled around. "I told you, there is nothing you can do!"

It stalked away, and the desperation rose in Belle's chest.

"Take me instead!"

There was half a second of silence as all of them took in the words.

"No!" Maurice cried.

The shape paused. "What did you say?" he asked, turning.

Belle hesitated. Then she lifted her chin. "Take me instead," she said clearly, and was relieved that her voice didn't shake as much as she thought it might.

"Belle, you don't know what you're doing," Maurice said, grabbing her hand.

The shape took a step towards her. "You would do that?" he asked. He sounded incredulous. "You would take his place?"

"If I did, would you let him go?"

"Yes," growled the voice.

Belle set her jaw and nodded.

"But you must promise to stay here forever."

Her determination flickered away for half a second. "Forever..."

The shape stepped closer again. "Forever! Or he dies here in the cellar."

"That's not fair," Belle whispered. Then she looked up. "Wait." She held the torch higher. "Come into the light."

The shape hesitated. Then, slowly, it came forward. Belle's eyes went wide. The creature was at least seven feet tall, covered in thick tawny fur and with a beast's face. It was upright, though, and wore clothes which, even though they were enormous and torn up, looked like they belonged on a young man. Belle instinctively backed away from the sight.

The Beast turned away sharply. "Make your choice," he growled.

Maurice grabbed Belle's hands. "Belle, listen to me," he said desperately. "I'm old. I've lived my life."

Belle stared into his face, biting her lip. She couldn't leave him here. He was strong, but whatever had happened already with the Beast had hurt something inside of him. Belle was more adaptable. She could take this.

"You have my word."

"Done!" the Beast roared.

The suit of armor took Maurice's arm and pulled him towards the stairs. "No! I beg you! Release my daughter!" His shouts of protest echoed off the cellar walls. "Belle!

Belle tried to follow after him, but the Beast leapt between them and roared. Belle recoiled instinctively from the Beast's sharp teeth, crying out. "No, wait, please!"

"Take him to the crossroads!"

"No, please! Wait!"

Maurice disappeared up the stairs. Belle stared for a few moments, and then turned away. She could feel her throat going tight, and she refused to let the Beast see her cry.

"Master," said Lumiere, who had followed the Beast down the stairs.

"Hush!" growled the Beast.

"Master, please," Lumiere said, more gently. "As the girl is going to be with us for some time, you may want to offer her a more comfortable room."

The Beast paused. Then he glanced at Belle, facing the other wall. She had huddled in on herself, and the duct tape torch was hanging limply by her side. He approached slowly. Belle heard the clicking of his claws on the stone floor.

"You didn't let me say goodbye."

Her voice was low, and it shook slightly - whether from anger or something else, the Beast couldn't tell. "What?" he asked.

She turned to face him. The torch lit her face oddly, but it wasn't hard to tell that she was glaring at him. "Well, I'm never going to see him again, and you didn't even let me say goodbye!"

The Beast was taken aback. Finally, the only thing he could come up with to say was, "I'll...take you to your room."

"My room?" Belle asked, losing the edge of her anger. "But I thought -"

"Do you want to stay in the cellar?" the Beast roared, whirling around.

"No!"

"Then follow," the Beast said, stepping closer. Belle flinched away. "You follow me!"

He stalked off up the stairs. Slowly, Belle followed. With her anger starting to fade, she didn't have much to hold on to to keep herself from crying.

As they walked through the halls, the Beast spoke. "This is your home now," he said. "You are free to go anywhere you like, except the West Wing."

"Why, what's in the West Wing?" Belle asked.

"It's forbidden!" the Beast roared. "You are never to set foot there, do you understand?"

Belle clamped her mouth shut belligerently.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes!" she snapped, turning her head away.

He led her up the stairs to a door on the second floor. He stepped aside, and she opened the door slowly. "This is your room," he said. "I hope you will be comfortable here."

She walked inside as quickly as she could, trying to get away from the Beast.

"If you need anything, my servants will attend to you," the Beast said. "And one more thing."

Belle glanced over.

"You will join me for dinner."

She turned away, stalking over to the bed.

The Beast growled. "That is not a request!" He slammed the door shut. Belle could hear him going down the stairs. She looked at the torch, which was smoldering faintly in her hand. She blew out the rest of the flame and dropped it on the floor. Then she hugged her arms close to herself.

_"Yes, I made the choice:_

_"For Papa, I will stay. _

_"But I don't deserve to lose my freedom in this way, you monster!"_ She shouted the last words at the door and fought the urge to cave in to her building tears.

_"If you think that what you've done is right, well, then,_

_"You're a fool!"_

A tear slipped out of her eye. _"Think again."_

She looked around the room. It didn't look like it had been used in years. The sun was going down, and it was getting dark and chilly. There were cobwebs in the corners, and dust on every surface.

The tears won out.

_"Is this home? _

_"Is this where I should learn to be happy?_

_"Never dreamed _

_"That a home could be dark and cold!_

_"I was told _

_"Every day in my childhood: even when we grow old,_

_"Home should be where the heart is!_

_"Never were words so true."_

She swallowed.

_"My heart's far, far away;_

_"Home is too."_

She flung open the window and started east, up above the canyon ridge and into the darkening sky.

_"What I'd give to return_

_"To the life that I knew lately!_

_"And to think I complained of that dull provincial town..."_

Her face twisted at the irony of it, and she slammed the window shut. She turned to face the room, and was overwhelmed. She was never going home. Never going to see her papa again. She was going to be trapped here with the Beast for the rest of her life.

_"Is this home?_

_"Am I here for a day or forever?_

_"Shut away _

_"From the world until who knows when!"_

And then she jerked her chin up. _"Oh, but then_

_"As my life has been altered once, it can change again."_

She flung her arms up. _"Build higher walls around me!_

_"Change every lock and key._

_"Nothing lasts..._

_"Nothing holds all of me."_

She straightened up, holding her head high. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped off of her nose and chin.

_"My heart's far, far away, _

_"Home and free!"_

She smiled sadly, and turned to face her room.

Then there was a knock on the door. Belle went still. "Who is it?" she asked, not turning.

"Mrs. Potts, dear," said a warm voice. "I thought you might like some tea."

Belle wiped her face quickly. "Come in," she said. The door opened, and she turned.

Then her eyes went wide.

"Nothing like a warm cup of tea to make the world seem a bit brighter," said the smiling, matronly figure who had entered the room pushing a small cart. A large teacup was sitting on top of the cart, beaming at her.

"But you're a...you're a..." The figure was just bizarre enough that Belle couldn't be absolutely sure, but the woman bore a powerful resemblance to a human-sized teapot.

"Mrs. Potts, dear," the woman said gently. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance." She approached Belle, who couldn't help backing away a little. She ran into the wardrobe, which gave a little cry of shock that made Belle leap away.

"Careful, darling," said the wardrobe.

Belle stared. "Who're you?" she asked.

The wardrobe-woman smiled. "Madame de la Grande Bouche," she said grandly. "Perhaps you've heard of me."

"Sorry," Belle said, shaking her head.

Madame turned away. "You see, they've forgotten all about me," she moaned petulantly. "One can be - and I quote - the toast of Europe, the brightest star ever to grace the stage, but fall under one little spell..."

Belle was still shaking her head. "But this is impossible," she said. It was too much to take in all in one sitting.

Madame smiled kindly. "I know it is, dear," she said, "but here we are. Now," she said importantly, "what shall we dress you in for dinner. This is...nice," she said, eyeing Belle's cargo pants and tank top, "but how would you like to borrow one of my gowns? Let's see what I've got in my drawers!"

Belle bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Madame had opened her doors. The clothes on the hangers inside were being pawed through. Then something white and lacy was pulled off the rack. Madame held it out, beaming so hard that her eyes closed.

This time, Belle was shocked into laughing. What Madame was holding out was a pair of fluffy, lacy bloomers.

Belle's laughter made Madame open her eyes. She looked hurt for a moment, and then she realized what she had held out. "Oh, dear," she said, shoving it back inside. She made another search. "Here we go." She pulled out a beautiful red dress, trimmed with white velvet and with graceful, off-the-shoulder sleeves. "I wore this the night I performed at the Royal Opera. The king himself was there!" She sighed happily at the memory, and then glanced down at herself. "Of course, I wouldn't have a prayer of fitting into it now... Take it."

"That's very kind," Belle said, "but I'm not going to dinner."

Mrs. Potts and Madame exchanged looks, and then looked back at Belle. "Why, of course you are," Madame said shakily. "You heard what the Master said."

Belle frowned. "He may be your master, but he's not mine!" she snapped. Both of the woman shrank back a little. Belle put her hands to her head and rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "It's just... This is all happening so fast."

Mrs. Potts put a reassuring hand on Belle's shoulder. "That was a very brave thing you did, dear," she said.

"We all think so." Madame smiled encouragingly.

Belle nodded, feeling her throat go tight again. "I'm going to miss my papa so much."

Mrs. Potts rubbed Belle's shoulder. "Cheer up, child," she said warmly. "I know things may seem bleak right now, but you mustn't despair. We're here to see you through.

_"I hope that we'll be friends,_

_"Though I don't know you well._

_"If anyone can make the most of living here, then Belle, it's you._

_"And who knows:_

_"You may find home here too."_

* * *

TrudiRose: I understand your concern, and I really appreciate the advice, but I'm much more comfortable with the script that with creating new dialogue and relationships in the story. What I'm trying to do is tell the story in my own way, through the script, just like you would onstage. I want to play around with characterization and character development to help enrich my writing, and it's easier to not deal with having to craft a full story. Plus I have issues with paraphrasing a script - I've had the idea of word-for-word performance beaten into my head by our director, and it's a hard habit to break!


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter closes with "If I Can't Love Her", the song from the end of the first act. I'm just going to say that I absolutely love that song. Every time our Beast sang it during rehearsal - even without any sort of costume or the elaborate makeup - I sat out in the house, transfixed. Our dressing room didn't have any sound, so during the show I would go out and sit at the top of the steep stairs leading backstage and listen to it. Even up there, dressed in my little plate costume (sans corset, flowery headband, and giant plate that I had to wear like a backpack), sitting on the top of the stairs and leaning against a wall covered in decades of theatre people's graffiti, it was incredibly powerful. I hope I did it justice here._  
_

* * *

The sun was going down, but on the other side of town, Gaston's house was just beginning to wake up. His parents were out of town for the day, and a party involving just about everyone who had been at school with Gaston - including more than a few people who had graduated several years before - had broken out. Everyone was having a great time.

Except Gaston.

He sat in the living room, the center of the party, fuming. "Who does she think she is?" he snarled. "That girl has tangled with the wrong man."

"Darn right," said Lefou, and nodded so hard that his hair bounced.

Gaston ignored him. "No one says no to Gaston. Dismissed!" he half-yelled, thumping his fist on the arm of the chair. "Rejected! Publicly humiliated! It's more than I can bear."

Over the music and the sounds of people, Lefou couldn't quite make out the last sentence. "More beer?" It seemed like the best option.

"What for?" Gaston asked, slumping back. "Nothing helps. I'm disgraced."

Lefou straightened up. "Who, you? Never. Gaston, you've got to pull yourself together!"

Gaston's eyes flickered over, and then he looked away.

Lefou decided to try a different tack. He hit his shoulder in what he thought was a friendly, comradely way, and said, _"Gosh, it disturbs me to see you, Gaston,_

_"Looking so down in the dumps._

_"Every guy here'd like to be you, Gaston, _

_"Even when taking your lumps!"_

The blow to his shoulder that Gaston gave him didn't faze him in the least.

_"There's no man in town as admired as you,"_ Lefou told him. _"You're everyone's favorite guy!_

_"Everyone's awed and inspired by you, and it's not very hard to see why..."_

Gaston sat up a little. The lanky boy was flitting around like a stupid songbird trying to flatter him. He thought that was probably more gratifying than the flattery itself.

Encouraged by Gaston's interest, Lefou went on. _"No one's slick as Gaston, no one's quick as Gaston. _

_"No one's neck's as incredibly thick as Gaston's!_

_"For there's no man in town half as manly - _

_"Perfect, a pure paragon!"_

Gaston shoved him away, scowling, as Lefou's excited diction sprayed a fine mist of spittle over his face. Lefou continued, blissfully unaware.

_"You can ask any Tom, Dick, or Stanley,"_ he said, and gestured around the room. People had started to notice what was going on.

_"And they'll tell you whose team they'd prefer to be on!"_

And, right on cue, the room joined in. _"No one's been like Gaston, a kingpin like Gaston!"_

_"No one's got a swell cleft in his chin like Gaston!"_ Lefou said excitedly. Gaston got up, seeming appeased by the praise.

_"As a specimen, yes, I'm intimidating!"_ he admitted modestly.

_"My, what a guy, that Gaston!_

_"Give five hurrahs, give twelve hip-hips!"_

_"Gaston is the best and the rest is all drips!" _

Gaston clapped Lefou on the shoulder. Lefou winced at the impact. "Ow..."

_"No one fights like Gaston, douses lights like Gaston!"_

Lefou chimed in. "In a wrestling match, nobody - yeowch! - _bites_ like Gaston!" He shrank back, rubbing the marks in his arm.

Liesel, Laura, and Veronica danced up to Gaston. _"For there's no one as burly and brawny -"_

_"As you see, I've got biceps to spare," _Gaston said, and the girls squealed.

_"Not a bit of him's scraggly or scrawny,"_ Lefou said, glancing at his own bony frame.

_"That's right! And every last inch of me's covered with hair!"_ He opened up the top of his shirt to prove it, and Liesel, Laura, and Veronica swooned.

_"No one hits like Gaston, matches wits like Gaston,"_

_"In a spitting match, nobody spits like Gaston!"_

_"I'm especially good at expectorating - _ptooey!"

Everyone watched the glob sail, and cheered. _"Ten points for Gaston!"_

Gaston grinned and motioned everyone closer. _"When I was a lad," _he said, _"I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large!_

_"And now that I'm grown I eat five dozen eggs! So I'm roughly the size of a barge!"_

He struck several poses to prove just that.

"Ooh!"

"Ah!"

"Wow!"

_"My, what a guy, that Gaston!"_

Now Gaston sat back, relaxed, and let the party unfold before him.

There was a loud shout of "More beer!" and a few seconds later, several of the nimbler boys had come in from the kitchen, balancing mugs. "Hey!" they called.

"Hey!" replied everyone else.

The music thrummed through the house, and everyone got caught up in the beat, even the guys passing out beers. Lefou managed to snag one of the first ones and drank a whole bunch in one gulp. His first instinct was to spit it out - it tasted gross - but everyone else was drinking it, so he held his nose and sank several big gulps.

It wasn't long before he was stumbling across the room, totally hammered, trying to join in with the dancing. He made it over to Gaston, balancing just barely on one heel, and Gaston blew out a big breath like he was blowing out a candle. Distracted by the sudden gust, Lefou lost his balance and went tottering backwards. He landed on Norman, who shoved him off, laughing uproariously. Lefou spin dizzily and shook a fist at him. Then he spotted the bottle in the fist he was waving and took another huge sip. He stumbled back and fell onto the footstool. Chortling, Gaston dragged him over to his chair and sat him down. Liesel, Laura, and Veronica, all hiccuping slightly, flocked to tease him.

A bunch of guys lined up along one wall, making a big show out of their synchronized drinking moves. Then they turned towards the room - particularly towards the girls - and started grinding.

The girls went red and laughed. The guys laughed harder. Then Liesel, Laura, and Veronica, determined not to be shown up, burst out into a dance routine lifted straight from the Pequeno High cheer routine. Several boys wolf-whistled loudly.

The center of the room filled with twisting, gyrating shapes, some in couples, some alone. The three girls squealed as Gaston lifted each of them up and sat them down on the counter. And, after a while, the song returned for one last rousing chorus:

_"No one shoots like Gaston, makes those beauts like Gaston!"_

_"Then goes tromping around wearing boots like Gaston!"_

Gaston smiled. _"I use antlers in all of my decorating,"_ he said, gesturing up towards his room.

The crowd cheered. _"My, what a guy!"_

"What a guy!" Lefou cried.

_"Gaston!"_

Bottles clinked, heels clicked, and a shout rose up. "Hey!"

* * *

Maurice had driven way above the speed limit, but it had still taken him too long to reach Pequeno from the mansion. He was desperate, and so he drove for the first lit up house he saw.

He jumped out of the truck and tried to pound on the door, but it was already open. So he raced in. "Help, help! Someone please, help me!"

Gaston looked up in shock. "Maurice?" he said.

Maurice didn't hear him. He raced around the room, trying to say everything at once. "Please, I need your help! He's got her! He's got her locked in the cellar!"

Norman blinked. "Who?"

"Belle!" Maurice said. "We must go at once! There's not a minute to lose!"

Gaston stepped forwards. "Whoa. Slow down, Maurice," he said. "Who's got Belle locked in a cellar?"

"A beast!" Maurice yelled, and at that moment, the song playing over the speakers ended. "A horrible, monstrous beast!"

There was precisely half a second of silence, and then the room burst out laughing.

"Is it a big beast?" Gaston asked, grinning.

"Huge!"

Norman jumped forward. "With spooky yellow eyes?" he taunted.

"Yes, yes," Maurice said, nodding.

"And a long, ugly snout?" yelled Matt. Next to him, Monica was doubled over with laughter.

"Hideously ugly," Maurice agreed.

Lefou shoved his way through. "And sharp cruel fangs?" he asked, making a face that bore a striking resemblance to a saber-toothed tiger.

"Yes, yes - will you help me?" Maurice asked impatiently. "Will you help me?"

Gaston tried to put on a serious face. "All right, old man," he said. "We'll help you _out_!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the door. Everyone's laughter started up again.

Maurice frowned, then yelped as Norman and Matt hauled him towards the door. "Never mind!" he snapped. "In that case, I'll - I'll get her out myself!"

And he was thrown out. Matt slammed the door behind him.

"Crazy old Maurice," Norman said, chortling.

"He's always good for a laugh," Matt agreed.

As the crowd started to drift towards the rest of the house, Gaston ran a hand through his hair. "Crazy old Maurice, huh?" he murmured, seeming to mull over the words. "Crazy old Maurice!" He grinned and turned to Lefou. _"Lefou, I'm afraid I've been thinking," _he said.

_"A dangerous pastime!"_

_"I know,"_ Gaston said. _"But that wacky old coot is Belle's father, and his sanity's only so-so. _

_"Now the wheels in my head have been turning since I looked at that loony old man. _

_"See, I promised myself I'd be married to Belle, and right now I'm evolving a plan! _If I..." He whispered something brief in Lefou's ear.

"Yes?" Lefou asked, his blond mop of hair perking up.

"Then we..."

Lefou's eyes went wide. "No...would she...?"

"Yes," Gaston said triumphantly.

"Now I get it!" Lefou cheered.

"Let's go!"

_"No one plots like Gaston -"_

_"Takes cheap shots like Gaston!"_

_"Plans to persecute harmless crackpots like Gaston!"_

_"Yes, I'm endlessly, wildly resourceful -"_

_"As down to the depths you descend -"_

_"I won't even be mildly remorseful."_

Lefou grinned. _"Just as long as you get what you want in the end!"_

_"Who has brains like Gaston?"_

_"Entertains like Gaston?"_

_"Who can make up these endless refrains like Gaston?"_

They paused for a moment, and Gaston grinned. _"So his marriage we soon will be celebrating," _they crooned in a dark, flat-laden harmony.

_"My, what a guy!_

_"Gaston!"_

* * *

"Well? What is it?"

Mrs. Potts and Lumiere had come into the living room to find Cogsworth pacing. It had been about an hour and a half since Belle had refused to come to dinner, and everyone was a bit nervous.

Cogsworth jumped when he heard Mrs. Potts's voice. "I-Is dinner ready, Mrs. Potts?" he asked, turning.

"Just about," she replied. "I haven't the foggiest idea what she likes to eat, so I've cooked up everything in the kitchen." She knew it was probably useless, of course, but it had helped her to take her mind off the situation. And the girl would still have to eat, even if she didn't do it with the Beast.

"Good," Cogsworth said, nodding absently. "Good..." He crossed the room, tapping his fingers against his side nervously. Lumiere's and Mrs. Potts's eyes went wide when they saw his back, and Mrs. Potts gasped.

Cogsworth froze. "Yes, well," he said, "don't just stand there gaping," he said. "Get back to work!" His voice had gone small. _What now?_

"You tell 'im," Lumiere hissed.

"I can't!"

"Tell me what, exactly?" Cogsworth's tone was clipped and flat.

Lumiere took a step forward. "Now, don't get upset," he said soothingly, "but you've got somezing on your back."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Cogsworth snapped.

Lumiere bit his lip. "It appears to be a winding 'andle of sorts."

Cogsworth's eyes went wide and he strained over his shoulder to try to get a glimpse. "Well, get it off of me!" he said, turning in circles.

Lumiere glanced down at his candles. _Not ze best tools for ze job,_ he thought, _but...well, 'ere goes nozzing._ He managed to get the candles in a good position and pulled.

The handle didn't move.

He tried harder, nodding Mrs. Potts over to help him.

The handle still didn't budge.

"It won't come off..."

"What do you mean, it won't come off?" Cogsworth asked, whipping around to face them. "It wasn't there last night when I went to bed! Where did it come from!? Why is this happening to me?"

Mrs. Potts looked at him sympathetically. "It's the spell, I'm afraid," she said.

"Just try to relax," Lumiere said.

"Relax?" Cogsworth snapped. "Relax? How can I relax with this _appendage _on my back? Is there no dignity left for me? And what's going to go next, my mind...?"

Lumiere put a candle on his shoulder reassuringly. "Calm yourself, Cogsworth, it'll be all right," he said.

Cogsworth looked away. He opened his mouth and shut it. "I'm frightened, Lumiere," he admitted finally. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Lumiere looked at him, softening. It was the most human he'd heard Cogsworth sound in years. "I know, my friend," he said. "But you are not alone."

"We're all in this together," Mrs. Potts agreed gently, laying a hand on Lumiere's arm.

For half a second, Cogsworth started to relax. Then there was a _click-click_ing sound and the Beast stalked into the room.

"It's time for dinner," he growled. "Where is she?"

Cogsworth went tense. "Maybe I should see about her," he said quickly. "Won't be a minute!" And he left the room as swiftly as the clock would allow.

The Beast snarled to himself. "I told her to come down!" he said. "What's taking so long?"

"Try to be patient, sir," Mrs. Potts said. "The girl has lost her father and her freedom all in one day."

Her tone was slightly reproachful, and the Beast looked away, scowling.

"Master," Lumiere said cautiously, "'ave you zought zat per'aps zis girl could be ze one to break ze spell?"

"Of course I have!" snapped the Beast. "I am not a fool."

"Good!" Lumiere said, smiling. "So, you fall in love wiz 'er, she falls in love wiz you, and _poof_! Ze spell is broken, and we'll be 'uman again before midnight!"

Mrs. Potts shook her head. "Lumiere, it's not that easy," she said. "These things take time."

"But we don't 'ave time," Lumiere said quietly. "Ze Rose 'as already begun to wilt."

The Beast shook his head and turned away. "It's no use," he growled. "She's so beautiful, and I'm... Well..." He glanced down at his hands, at the tufts of matted tawny fur poking through the rips in his clothes. He could feel his fangs pressing against his lips. "Look at me."

"'E 'as a point," Lumiere muttered, looking away.

"Shh!" Mrs. Potts hissed, and turned to the Beast. "Master, you must help her see past all that."

"I don't know how." He started out of the room.

"Well," Mrs. Potts said, "you could start by trying to make yourself more presentable. Straighten up," she instructed. He turned back, surprised, but did as she asked. She nodded approvingly. "Try to act like a gentleman."

Lumiere sidled in. "Impress 'er wiz your rapier wit!"

"But be gentle," Mrs. Potts added.

"Shower 'er wiz compliments!"

"But be sincere."

"And above all -"

"WHAT?" roared the Beast, more than a little overwhelmed by their two-front attack.

Mrs. Potts and Lumiere raised their eyebrows at each other. "You must control your temper!" they admonished together.

The Beast looked like he had something to say about that, but at that moment Cogsworth came back in. The Beast turned his attention on him instead. "Well?" he growled.

"What?" Cogsworth asked innocently.

The Beast almost snarled at him, but caught himself halfway through. "Where is she?" he asked.

"Who?" Cogsworth asked. The Beast glared at him, and he cowered. "Oh, yes, the girl." He swallowed. "Well, actually, she's in the process of... Circumstances being what they are..." He tried to find a way to fudge, but there was no way around it. The Beast was staring him down.

"She's not coming."

The words fell into dead silence.

"She's not coming!"

The Beast stared. His lip twitched into a half-curl. "What did you say?" he growled slowly.

Cogsworth's words came out in a squeak so high that it was a miracle anyone heard them. "She's not coming!"

"We'll see about that!" roared the Beast, and strode furiously out of the room.

The others pursued him. "Your Lordship - Your Grace - Your Eminence -" Cogsworth stammered. "Let's not be hasty -"

"Stay where you are!" ordered the Beast. To Lumiere, who had managed to hop in front of him, he growled, "Lumiere, stand aside."

Ordinarily Lumiere wouldn't have buckled, but the Beast was in a mood. He slipped out of the way and followed him up the stairs with the others.

The Beast shoved Belle's door open without bothering to knock first. "I thought I told you to come to dinner!"

Belle spared him half a glance, then crossed to the window. "I'm not hungry," she said.

"I am the master of this place, and I'm telling you to come to dinner!"

"And I'm telling you I'm not hungry!" Belle's voice rose, although she didn't turn to look at him.

The Beast growled. "You're hungry if I say you're hungry!"

The sheer ridiculousness of the statement got past Belle's stubborn resolve, and she couldn't help snorting. "Don't be ridiculous!" she said, turning.

The Beast stared at her, his lip curling angrily. "What did you say?"

"You can't just go around ordering people to be hungry," Belle said, turning away to hide an eye-roll of epic proportions. "It doesn't work like that. And besides -" she said, warding off the response she knew was coming. She turned back and looked him straight in the eye. "It's rude."

The Beast looked down at her. "Rude, is it?" he growled, his face twisting into a scowl. "Well, then, how about this?" He took several steps forward, drawing himself up so all seven feet of him towered over the defiant girl. "If you don't come to dinner, I will drag you by the hair!"

She glared up at him, not even flinching. A tiny bit of surprise managed to work its way in beneath the Beast's anger. No one - especially not anyone as delicate-looking as the young woman - had ever stood up to him before. It was like a jolt of cold water.

Lumiere cleared his throat. "Master," he said carefully, "zat may not be ze best way to win ze girl's affections."

"Please, attempt to be a gentleman!" Cogsworth said.

"But why is she being so difficult?" the Beast asked them, and then whirled to face Belle. She had folded her arms and was looking straight ahead. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"Why are you being such a bully?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Because I want you to come to dinner!" he roared.

A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Belle's mouth. "So you admit you're being a bully."

The Beast paused, caught, and then growled long and low.

"Deep breaths, Master, deep breaths," Mrs. Potts said.

He tried to take one, and he turned to look at them. "I will give her one last chance," he growled. He turned back to Belle, trying to pull back his anger. She turned to face him full-on, a neutral mask on her face.

"Would you be so kind," he said, every word shaking with repressed anger and sarcasm, "as to join me for dinner?"

She raised her eyebrows, and Cogsworth cleared his throat. "P...P..." he hinted.

The Beast closed his eyes, fighting back a scowl. "Please," he spat.

Belle smiled sweetly. "No thank you!" she said primly, and turned away.

The Beast roared. "Fine, then starve!" he shouted, and turned to stalk out.

"Master, please," Lumiere said, stepping in front of him.

The Beast glared at him. "If she doesn't eat with me," he growled, "she doesn't eat at all!" And he shoved past Lumiere and stormed out.

The others left, after casting sympathetic looks at Belle. She had folded her arms and was standing rigidly, staring out the window.

"What were we zinking?" Lumiere said. "We will never be 'uman again."

"So it appears," Cogsworth said, shaking his head sadly.

Mrs. Potts looked at them incredulously. "Well, what would you two have us do?" she asked. "Give up? I can't give up until I hear the sound of my boy's laughter as he runs through these halls again!" She folded her arms and defied the other two to disagree.

"Quite right, Mrs. Potts," Cogsworth said. "We mustn't give up while there's still a chance. Lumiere, stand watch at the door. If there's the slightest change, inform me at once!"

Lumiere snapped to attention and threw a salute Cogsworth's way. "Oui, mon capitaine!" he said. He took up his post, and the other two headed down the stairs.

* * *

In the dim, dilapidated west wing of the mansion, the Beast paced his bedroom, taking swings at the walls with his claws. "I ask nicely, but she refuses," he spat. "What does she want me to do, beg?"

He sliced his claws through the mangled wood of his bed frame, and then stormed over to his desk and picked up the mirror. "Show me the girl," he commanded.

The mirror went cloudy for a moment, and then she was there. She was sitting on the bed, holding her head in her hands like she was trying to quell a headache. Madame was speaking to her.

"I know the Master can be temperamental," she said, "but underneath all that matted fur, he's really not such a bad fellow. Why don't you give him a chance?"

Belle's head snapped up. "Why should I?" she asked fiercely. "Did he give my father a chance?"

"Well, no," Madame said carefully, "but once you get to know him -"

"I don't want to get to know him," Belle said. "I don't want to have anything to do with him!"

The Beast snarled and threw the mirror onto the bed. He didn't see Madame turn away, or the tears that slipped down Belle's stubbornly set face, and the mirror returned to normal before he could throw it another glare.

"I'm just kidding myself!" he roared. "She'll never see me as anything but a monster." He glanced back at the mirror, reflecting the ceiling blankly. His face twisted, but this body couldn't cry. He'd discovered that years ago.

_"How long must this go on?_

_"This cruel trick of fate! _

_"I simply made one careless wrong decision,_

_"And then that witch was gone, _

_"And left me in this state!_

_"An object of revulsion and derision - _

_"Hated!_

_"Is there no one_

_"Who can show me_

_"How to win the world's forgiveness?"_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Rose drop a petal. "No!" he yelled, running to it. The petal landed in the soft carpet of red that had grown up around the Rose. The flower itself was only holding on to about half a dozen petals.

"What did they say?" he muttered to himself, turning away. "Shower her with compliments. Impress her with your wit. Act like a gentleman."

_Huh._ "Act like a gentleman," he said again. "Act...like a gentle man..."

* * *

Outside of Belle's room, Lumiere's sentry duties had given way to a light nap. He was leaning against the doorframe, snoring slightly, when Babette came up the stairs. "Lumiere," she breathed, brushing up against him. "Oh, Lumiere!"

Lumiere broke off mid-snore, his eyes fluttering open. Then they focused on the small, curvy shape next to him. "Babette!" he said, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. "Come to me, my little fluff..."

He pulled her close and kissed her neck. Then he worked his way down her shoulder and across her arm, lingering along her wrist. But when he reached her palm, he got a mouthful of feathers. Several of them tickled the inside of his nose, and he sneezed violently.

Babette pulled her hand back, her expressive face curling into a pout. "It eez my 'ands, isn't it?" she asked. "You do not love me anymore. Oh, zis 'orrible, 'orrible spell!" She turned away and started sobbing, covering her face with her hands, but sneezed when one of the feathers got her.

"Cherie," Lumiere said, putting an arm around her, "you cut me to ze wick. Do you zink a zing like zat would change my feelings for you?" He moved closer, pulling one of her hands up to his face. Babette traced the feathers lightly along his jawline. He shuddered with pleasure. "Now you really tickle my fancy!" he moaned.

"Oh no," Babette said, pulling away.

"Oh yes," Lumiere said, stepping closer.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes!"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Babette said. "I 'ave been burnt by you before!" She turned and fled, but not before Lumiere caught her meaning. He sprinted down the hall and disappeared into one of the other rooms close behind her.

* * *

"Actually, Madame," Belle said tentatively, "I am a little hungry." She'd been trying to ignore it, but she hadn't eaten since that morning. Her stomach was rumbling unhappily.

Madame smiled. "I'll ring for Mrs. Potts," she said, bustling over towards the bell. "And I'll sing you an aria while we wait!" She started to warm up with several powerful arpeggios, but Belle interrupted her.

"That's all right," she said quickly, moving for the door. "I think I'll go myself."

Madame broke off. "But what about the Master?" she asked nervously. "He's really not going to like this..."

Belle smiled. "I know," she said. She left, shutting the door behind her.

Madame was left alone. "Oh dear," she said to herself. "Oh, dear..."

* * *

"I like this girl," Mrs. Potts told Cogsworth. "I like her spunk."

Cogsworth snorted. "Well, if you ask me, she's just being stubborn," he said. "After all, he did say 'please'."

Mrs. Potts paused. Then she said, "You know, I think that may be the first time I've ever heard him use that word."

"I believe you're right," Cogsworth said, surprised.

Mrs. Potts smiled. "You see? She's already starting to have a good influence on him."

At that moment, Belle stepped through the doorway.

"Oh, there you are, dear," Mrs. Potts said. "Glad to see you out and about."

Cogsworth cleared his throat, stepping forward. He extended a hand to Belle. "I am Cogsworth, head of the household," he said. Belle smiled politely and shook his hand, but before she could introduce herself in return, there was a shout from outside the room.

"Cogsworth!" Lumiere moaned, running inside. "Ze girl - she's gone! I swear, my eyes never left ze - enchanté, mademoiselle!" His demeanor changed instantly when he realized that Belle was in the room, and he took Belle's hand smoothly and kissed the back. Belle smiled abashedly.

"This is Lumiere," Cogsworth said, sighing. Then he whacked Lumiere on the back. "Stop it! Stop that!"

Belle was blushing. Lumiere's kisses had left her hand and had been moving up to her shoulder.

Cogsworth shook his head irately. "If there's anything we can to make your stay more comfortable," he said, nudging Lumiere aside, "anything - anything at all -"

"I am a little hungry," Belle said.

"Except that."

"Cogsworth!" Mrs. Potts admonished.

"You heard what the Master said," Cogsworth hissed.

"Oh, pish tosh," Mrs. Potts said crossly. "I'm not about to let the poor child go hungry!"

Cogsworth frowned. "Fine," he said. "Glass of water, crust of bread, and then off to -"

"Cogsworth, I am surprised at you!" Lumiere said. "She is not our prisoner." He smiled charmingly at Belle. "She's our guest! We must make 'er feel welcome 'ere."

"All right, dinner," Cogsworth said, exasperated. "But keep it down! If the Master finds out, it'll be our necks!"

"Of course, of course," Lumiere said, putting an arm around Belle and leading her out to the dining room. "But what is dinner wizout a little music?"

A clash of cymbals and a drumroll echoed through the halls. "Music!" Cogsworth yelped.

Lumiere seated Belle at the head of the table, smiling. "Ma chère mademoiselle," he said, "it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure zat we welcome you 'ere tonight. And now, we invite you to relax, and pull up a chair, as ze dining room proudly presents your dinner." He struck a pose, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Put our service to the test!_

_"Tie a napkin 'round your neck, chèrie, and we'll provide the rest."_ He winked. Several things started to make their way into the room. Chip hopped onto the table to watch from beside Belle's elbow. A napkinlike young woman set a menu down in front of her, and left, tossing a smile over her shoulder.

_"Soup du jour!_

_"Hot hors d'ourves!_

_"Why, we only live to serve."_ He bowed.

_"Try the grey stuff -"_

"It's delicious!" Chip told her.

_"Don't believe me? Ask the dishes!_

_"They can sing -"_

_"Ahh, ahh, ahh ahh!"_

_"They can dance -_

_"After all, miss, I'm from France!_

_"And a dinner I plan is never second-best!_

_"Go on, unfold your menu,_

_"Take a glance, and then you'll be our guest!_

_"Oui, our guest!_

_"Be our guest!"_

From each side of the room, a small line of cutlery filed in, beaming with excitement and bearing plates of food. They bobbed and wove around the table, putting the food down and then joining Lumiere.

_"Beef ragout, _

_"Cheese souffle,_

_"Pie and pudding en flambé!"_

_"We'll prepare and serve with flair a culinary cabaret!_

_"You're alone and you're scared -"_

_"Hoo ooh ooh ooh!"_

_"-But the banquet's all prepared!_

_"No one's gloomy or complaining while the flatware's entertaining!"_

_"We tell jokes!"_

_"I do tricks with my fellow candlesticks!"_

_"And it's all in perfect taste, that you can bet!_

_"Go on and lift your glass!_

_"You've won your own free pass to be our guest!"_

_"If you're stressed, it's fine dining we suggest!"_

_"Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest!_

_"Ahhh!"_

Belle was smiling hugely. This was amazing! It outstripped any choreography she'd seen in Pequeno's spring musicals, that was for certain. And she'd never tasted food like this in her life.

The cutlery had moved aside, and a new group of things came in, arcing around the table. This one was more varied - a cheese grater, a whisk, several wineglasses, a meat tenderizer, and a big set of measuring spoons.

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Get your worries off your chest!_

_"Let us say for your entrée, we've an array; may we suggest_

_"Try the bread!_

_"Try the soup!_

_"While the croutons loop-de-loop!"_

_"It's a treat for any diner!_

_"Don't believe me? Ask the china!"_

_"Singing pork!_

_"Dancing veal!_

_"What an entertaining meal!"_

_"How could anyone be gloomy or depressed?_

_"We'll make you shout 'encore!'_

_"And send us out for more!_

_"So be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!"_

The wineglasses stepped forward and into a dainty little dance routine. Then they curtsied deeply and joined the other things, which were stepping gracefully out of the room.

_"Ahh, ahh! _

_"Ahh, ahh, ahh!_

_"Ahh, ahh!_

_"Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh!"_

Five plates had filed out of the doors, beaming and stepping like ballerinas. They walked forward together, and then slanted sideways to reveal Mrs. Potts coming out of the door behind them.

_"It's a guest!_

_"It's a guest!_

_"Sakes alive! We'll, I'll be blessed!_

_"Wine's been poured, and, thank the Lord, I've had the napkins freshly pressed."_

_"With dessert, she'll want tea, and my dear, that's fine with me!"_

_"Hoo ooh ooh ooh!"_

_"While the cups do their soft-shoeing, I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing!_

_"I'll get warm -"_

_"Ba da ba bap!_

_"Piping hot -"_

_"Ba da ba bap!"_

_"Heaven's sake, is that a spot?"_

_"Ba da ba bap, bap bap bap!"_

_"Clean it up! We want the company impressed!"_

_"We've got a lot to do!"_

_"Is it one lump or two?" _Mrs. Potts asked kindly, and Belle held up two fingers, laughing.

_"For you, our guest!"_

_"She's our guest!"_

_"She's our guest!"_

_"She's our guest!_

_"Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest!" _

Mrs. Potts bustled out, beaming. The room's mood changed instantly when she left.

_"Life is so unnerving_

_"For a servant who's not serving," _Lumiere sang sadly.

_"He's not whole without a soul to wait upon!"_

The plates nodded in sad agreement.

_"Ah! Those good old days when we were useful!_

_"Suddenly, those good old days are gone."_

_"Hoo -"_

_"For ten years, we've been rusting -"_

_"Ooh ooh ooh,"_

_"- Needing so much more than dusting!"_

_"Ooh ooh ooh," _

_"Needing exercise - a chance to use our skills!"_

_"Waahh ahh ahh ahh!"_

The plates started to step out, dabbing at their eyes with large, lacy handkerchiefs.

_"Mostly, we just lay around the mansion,"_

_"Flabby, fat, and lazy, _

_"You walk in and whoops-a-daisy!"_

He did a double take towards one of the doors, where a certain ginger feather duster was waiting for him. "Babette!" he said.

She smiled coyly. "Come to me, my little spark," she said. They joined in the middle of the room. Lumiere sneezed slightly as a feather tickled his nose, but ignored it. They broke into a sharp, elegant tango.

Cogsworth stormed into the doorway. "Lumiere, this time you've gone too far!" he bellowed over the music. "This is shameless! Shameless!"

Lumiere threw him a derisive look, and Babette chose that moment to wrap herself even closer to the candelabra man. They danced for several beats more, and then stepped aside to make room for the salt and pepper shakers.

They started a dance that was strongly reminiscent of kids' games, including a miniature game of patty-cake, and raced each other out, grinning. Taking their place was a young man who was halfway to becoming a doormat.

Several roundoffs and an impressive display of the worm later, a corckscrew spun in, making at least three full rotations before she launched into the rest of the dance. She moved like a ballerina, and leapt and plié'd her way out of the room, beaming proudly. Belle applauded enthusiastically.

"Wheeee!"

Lumiere turned to gesture at the four women running in, huge stage smiles on their faces. "Âllo!" they called.

"And now, for your continued dining pleasure," Lumiere shouted over the music, "napkins, s'il vous plaît!"

"Ooh la la!" the napkins squealed in synchronization. They picked up the hems of their skirts and began a fast-paced showgirl routine.

"Un! Deux! Trois! Quatre! Cinq! Six! Sept! Wheeee!"

They leapt up and around, and finally slid one by one into full splits.

"Ahh!"

"Ahh!"

"Ahh!"

"Augh!" the last one moaned, clearly going down a little too far. Belle started to move to help her, but she rose with the other three as the rest of the things made their way back into the room and the music swelled up to a rousing climax.

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Our command is your request. _

_"It's been years since we've had anybody here, and we're obsessed_

_"With your meal, with your ease;_

_"Yes indeed, we aim to please!_

_"While the candlelight's still glowing, _

_"Let us help you!_

_"We'll keep going_

_"Course by course!_

_"One by one!_

_"Til you shout, 'Enough, I'm done!'_

_"Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest!_

_"Tonight you'll prop your feet up, but for now, let's eat up -_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Be our guest!_

_"Please be our guest!"_

Belle applauded with all her might as the things ended their song. "Oh, Lumiere, thank you for dinner!" she said as they started to make their way out. "It was delicious!"

"Good show, everyone, good show. Well done, well done..." Cogsworth bustled in, shooing the last of the things out of the dining room crossly. "Oh, my goodness, look at the time - off to bed," he said, catching Belle's arm and making straight for the door.

Belle let out a little shocked laugh. "Oh, I couldn't possibly go to bed now!" she said, shaking him off. "It's my first time anywhere enchanted!"

Cogsworth went pale. "Enchanted!" he stammered. "Who said anything about the mansion being enchanted?" He shot a glare at Lumiere. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Belle hid another laugh. "I figured it out for myself," she told him reassuringly. "I'd like to have a look around, if that's all right."

"Perhaps you would like a tour?" Lumiere said, extending his arm, but Cogsworth blocked him.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Wait a minute! I'm not sure that's such a good idea." He glanced at Belle and lowered his voice. "We can't have you-know-who go poking about you-know-where, if you know what I mean."

Belle narrowed her eyes and decided to change strategies. "Perhaps you would like to take me," she said sweetly, linking her arms with him and smiling. "I'm sure you know everything there is to know about the mansion."

Cogsworth shuffled a little bit, obviously pleased. "Well, actually," he said modestly, "I do."

Belle hid a smile. A little bit of flattery could take you a long way with the right people.

Cogsworth had started walking, bringing her out into the hall. He gestured up at the ceiling. "May I draw your attention to our hand-painted ceiling, complete with cherubs frolicking in delight among the nymphs and centaurs..."

* * *

The Beast walked along the hallway towards Belle's room, holding a covered tray with supper between his paws. "Act like a gentleman," he murmured. "Act like a gentle man." Then he snorted. "This will be good," he muttered.

Outside of Belle's door, he cleared his throat and knocked.

There wasn't an answer.

When he knocked again, and there still wasn't an answer, he opened the door a little bit. "Oh, Belle?" he called, and peered inside. "Belle?"

* * *

"And if you'll note the unusual inverted archways, you will see that this is yet another example of the late neo-classical Baroque period," Cogsworth said. Lumiere looked asleep on his feet, but Belle was interested. She'd read every architecture book in Pequeno. Although, she thought, if she was being honest with herself, it was mostly because she'd already read every other book in Pequeno...

"And, as I always say: if it's not Baroque, don't fix it!" Cogsworth laughed robustly, tickled by his little pun. Then, when he realized that neither of the other two were very amused, he cleared his throat. "May I draw your attention to the flying buttresses above the aviary..."

He walked on, but Belle hung back a little. "Oh, Lumiere, it's all so beautiful," she said, and sighed. "If only _he _weren't here..."

* * *

The girl was gone. The room was empty except for Madame, who was against the far wall with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

"Act like a gentleman... I am nothing but a fool!" the Beast roared. He flung the dish on the ground and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard that the entire second floor rattled.

* * *

They were near the western side of the mansion now. Cogsworth was still rambling on about the mansion. "And thanks to some quick thinking on my part," he said, "the disaster was averted, and that was the last time a stone of that weight was quarried in this area."

Belle nodded, looking around. Her eyes lighted on the stairs leading up to the west. "What's up there?" she asked, taking a step forward.

"Nothing!" Lumiere and Cogsworth said simultaneously, stepping in front of her. Belle blinked.

"Nothing of all of any interest in the West Wing," Cogsworth said, smiling nervously.

Belle's head snapped up, examining the stairs. "So that's the West Wing," she said, smiling slowly.

"Nice going," Lumiere muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Belle sidestepped the two things. "I wonder what he's hiding up there?" she murmured.

"Hiding?" Cogsworth exclaimed, stepping back in front. "What an idea! Hiding." He giggled nervously.

"Well, then it wouldn't be forbidden, would it?" Belle asked, peering around Cogsworth.

"Perhaps mademoiselle would like to see something else," Cogsworth said hastily. "We have exquisite tapestries dating all the way back to Aloysius the Pretentious..."

"Maybe later," Belle said, trying to step around him.

Lumiere grabbed hold of her arm - or at least as much as he could with his candles. "Per'aps you would like to see the garden," he said desperately, "or the library!"

Belle turned, momentarily distracted. "You have a library?" she asked eagerly.

"With books!" Lumiere exclaimed.

Cogsworth noticed Belle's interest and took his cue from Lumiere. "Oh, yes! Scads of books!" he said. "Mountains of books! Cascades! Cloudbursts! Swamps of books!"

"Books wiz pictures, books wiz words," Lumiere said.

"More words than you would ever be able to read in a lifetime," Cogsworth said. Belle closed her eyes exultantly.

"Books on every subject," Lumiere added, "by every author who ever set pen to _papier_!"

He and Cogsworth put their arms around Belle's shoulders and started to guide her off. As they did, her mind wandered away from the thought of that magnificent library, and back to the West Wing. She glanced over her shoulder, at the two things, and then slipped out from under their arms. They were so distracted that they hardly noticed.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. It was dark up there.

After a deep breath, she headed up.

Once she reached the top, she took a look around. The walls were scored with deep lines, like from huge claws. The pictures hung askew. Most of them were broken. At the very end of the hall was the only door that wasn't dusty from disuse. Belle hesitated with her hand on the knob, and headed in.

The room was even more torn up than the rest of the hallway. Pieces of furniture were strewed across the floor. The only thing in the room that didn't have claw marks in it or pieces broken off was a desk along the wall with the door. On the desk was a red rose, which, Belle realized, was standing upright all on its own. Her eyes went wide, and she moved towards it.

The desk around it was scattered with petals, and the rose was missing a lot. It was glowing slightly. Belle's brows furrowed. She reached out to finger the petals.

And then from the doorway came a roar loud enough that the room seemed to shake - "Don't touch that!"

Belle screamed and whirled around. The Beast loomed in the doorway, a massive dark shape whose every fiber seemed to be emanating fury. He stalked closer until Belle was pressed against the desk.

"What were you doing!?" he roared.

"I'm sorry!" Belle yelled, quailing.

"I told you never to come here!"

"I know, but -"

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, as the Beast shoved her aside to get to the Rose. She hit the floor hard and groaned.

The Beast didn't even notice. He was examining the Rose. But as Belle pushed herself to her feet, cradling her bruised arm, he turned on her again. "Do you realize what you could have done?"

"No!" Belle shouted defiantly. The pain of her fall had broken through her fear, and now her temper was rising.

"You had no right to be here! No right!" the Beast roared, advancing on her. "Get out!"

Belle didn't bother arguing. She whirled around and started to stalk out of the room. But the Beast reached out and grabbed for her shoulder. His claws dug into her flesh, and she screamed. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, and yanked out of his grip.

The Beast paused, stunned. He'd flown into rages, but he'd never - _never_ - actually hurt anyone before. "Belle," he said, moving after her with a hand extended.

She whirled around again, and her eyes burned past the tears welling up. "Promise or no promise," she said, "I won't stay here!"

And she turned and sprinted off down the hallway.

"Belle!" he called after her. "Belle! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you! I didn't mean to...hurt you..."

But it was too late. The sound of her boots disappeared down the stairs, and she was gone.

"You don't understand," he whispered. "You don't understand. There's so little left of me..." He looked down and saw the blood on his claws where they had dug into Belle's shoulder. The sight made his stomach turn. He looked away. "So little left..."

He turned away, back into the room. As he did, he caught a shattered glimpse of his face in the mirror above his dresser. The mirror was fractured and broken in a million places, but he could see enough. He stared, horribly transfixed. He hadn't seen his face in years. The look of it filled him with a sick hopeless, and he forced his gaze away.

_"And in my twisted face,"_ he said bitterly,

_"There's not the slightest trace_

_"Of anything that even hints at kindness..._

_"And from my tortured shape:_

_"No comfort,_

_"No escape!_

_"I see, but deep within is utter blindness._

_"Hopeless!_

_"As my dream dies._

_"As the time flies -" _His eyes alighted on the Rose.

_"Love a lost illusion..._

_"Helpless!" _He spat the word out. It left a nasty taste in his mouth.

_"Unforgiven._

_"Cold and driven _

_"To this sad conclusion:_

_"No beauty could move me -_

_"No goodness improve me -_

_"No power on Earth, _

_"If I can't love her."_ He looked at the Rose again, but looked away just as quickly.

_"No passion could reach me -_

_"No lesson could teach me_

_"How I could have loved her,_

_"And make her love me too."_

His gaze was pulled back towards the door. The image of her face, beautiful and angry and frightened and defiant, flashed through his mind, and he growled in frustration. _"If I can't love her, then who!?"_

He turned and stormed across the room, struggling to control the anger that flowed through him almost constantly - the anger that made him turn on the walls, and the servants, and Belle, because he was angry with himself above anything else but couldn't bear to turn it on himself any longer. He thought he would die if he tried.

He shook his head. _"Long ago I should have seen_

_"All the things I might have been!_

_"Careless and unthinking, I moved onward!_

"No!"

Another petal had fallen from the Rose. There were so few left now. His anger vanished into a freezing, terrifying void that opened up inside of him. Until Belle had arrived, he'd never honestly considered the idea that he would break the spell - but he'd never fully thought that he might not. Now, with her gone, it looked at though there was no chance.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be able to cry with all his might. But this body didn't work the same as his human one. The tears wouldn't come.

_"No pain could be deeper!_

_"No life could be cheaper!_

_"No point anymore, if I can't love her."_

He lifted his head to the heavens and his voice reached a roaring, howling peak of emotion that filled the mansion with pathetic reverberations.

_"No spirit could win me - _

_"No hope left within me -_

_"Hope I could have loved her, and that she'd set me free!"_ The word pierced the air with a heavy, almost physical force, and the Beast lowered his head.

_"But it's not to be." _

He set his jaw and straightened up with all the dignity of a warrior walking into the fight that he knew would mean his death.

_"If I can't love her," _he sang,

_"Let the world be done with me!"_


	4. Chapter 4

"You know what, Mama? I've got a funny feeling inside. I don't know what it is, but it makes me feel kind of bubbly!"

"It's tea, son. I've been feeling it, too!"

I must have listened to that scene at least thirty times during rehearsal, and I swear I thought of this every time. And somehow, it was funny every time. Fortunately I had the good sense to not say it to the other cast members more than about twice, because that would have stopped being funny very quickly!

* * *

Belle flung herself into the car and scrambled to get the key into the ignition. She was shaking with rage and her eyes were prickling with tears. But she could see clearly enough to drive. She stomped on the gas and peeled away from the mansion.

Her hands trembled on the wheel. She'd never been confronted like that before, and it had shaken her. She tried to push it out of her mind. She would get back to Pequeno, and then she and Maurice could leave. Never mind the hardware store or her job at the bookshop, just as long as they could escape this crazy nightmare.

And then the engine gave out.

Her head thumped against the steering wheel. "Crap," she groaned. In her haste, she'd forgotten the fixer-upper's speed restrictions.

It was dark out. She frowned, and then remembered: they kept a pocket flashlight in the glove compartment. She fumbled for it and came up victorious. Then she headed outside to figure out what had happened, wishing she had her sweatshirt. She'd been in too much of a hurry to get it from her room, which by this point was about a mile away. She'd only managed to drive for a minute before the engine had had too much.

She checked the gas tank first, hoping it would be empty. There was a can of gasoline in the trunk, which would have made for an easy fix. But the tank was full, so she moved on to check the engine.

Several chilly minutes later, she identified the problem: the timing belt had broken. It was something they hadn't gotten around to replacing yet, and her attack on the accelerator had pushed it too far. Fortunately, the last little things they'd needed to do were all in the car. She heaved the toolbox out from under the passenger's seat and set to work.

_Thank goodness it's an old car,_ she thought. _This could have been a disaster otherwise._

Then an eerie howl cut through the air.

Belle's heart rate shot up. That howl had come from close by. Her fingers brushed against a wooden handle - a hammer. She gripped it with both hands, holding the flashlight beneath her teeth. Endangered or not, if the _lobos_ got too aggressive, she wanted to have all her strength behind the hammer.

Another howl, and another. And another. They were moving closer. Silently, Belle cursed the breeze blowing across the desert. It was carrying her scent straight towards them!

There was a low growl, and at the edge of the light Belle caught a glimpse of grey fur. Then one of the wolves leapt at her.

Belle had just barely enough time to sprint aside before the furry shape shot into the space she had been occupying. She moved away from the car and turned to face the wolves.

They advanced on her slowly, strung out in a shallow semicircle. Belle raised the hammer. One - the biggest - loped for her. Belle aimed a heavy, two-handed blow at the wolf's side. It hit hard. The impact rattled her arms. The wolf yelped and hit the ground with a loud thump.

It picked itself up and limped into a circle with the others. Now she was surrounded. They were all growling softly. Belle readied herself for a four-front attack.

Then a roar from the east tore through their ears. Belle and the wolves whirled to look. The flashlight illuminated the Beast racing towards them, sometimes on two legs, sometimes on four. He caught one of the wolves with a hand and flung it aside.

The wolves and the Beast circled as Belle stared in shock. Then one of the wolves broke from the circle and made for Belle, clearly deciding that she was an easier target. She raised her hammer to strike, but the Beast jumped between them and batted the wolf aside. It landed, whimpering, and ran away.

The Beast lowered himself into a defensive stance in front of Belle, growling softly as he stared the wolves down. One tried to attack from the side. The Beast batted it away, but before he could react another one raked its claws across his back. He roared, arcing up, and the third sliced deep gashes into his stomach.

He doubled over, moaning, but forced himself up to fling the last three wolves to the ground. They ran off soon, whining. The Beast stayed standing for a moment. Then exhaustion overcame him, and he collapsed to the ground.

Belle sprinted for the car. The repair was almost done - just another couple tweaks, less than a minute, and she could be gone. But she hesitated by the engine and looked back at the Beast. He was moaning softly. The flashlight illuminated the blood that was matting in his fur, and on his shirt, and soaking into a pool on the sand.

She couldn't leave him there to die.

She put the hammer back in the toolbox and knelt down beside the Beast. He blinked up at her, clearly confused. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're going to be okay. Come on...put your arm over my shoulder."

She talked him up and managed to support him. He was over a foot and a half taller, but he was slouched over so much that the difference wasn't as bad. Slowly, she helped him limp his way back to the mansion.

The canyon was the hardest part. Eventually, with some faintly murmured help from the Beast, she found a path that was close enough to horizontal. They worked their way down slowly. The door to the mansion was open, and Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth were waiting for them.

Mrs. Potts ran for first aid supplies while the others helped the Beast into his chair and made a small fire. They eased his tattered ruin of a shirt off over his head, and then he curled away and started to lick at the wounds.

Mrs. Potts came back with the supplies. Belle took them and sat down in a chair next to the Beast. "Let me see," she said.

The Beast glanced up out of the corners of his eyes, and then ignored her.

"Don't do that!"

He came up all the way this time, looking at her in surprise. She held out a wet cloth and made for the gashes on his stomach. He pulled away. "Hold still," she said, and started to clean the wounds.

The Beast roared and jerked away. "That hurts!"

"Well, if you'd hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much," Belle said.

"If you hadn't run away, this wouldn't have happened!" snapped the Beast.

Belle sat up indignantly. "If you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't have run away!" she said. _After I helped him out like this! Doesn't he realize that I could have easily just left him to die out there?_

A little taken aback, it took the Beast a moment to reply. "Well, you shouldn't have been in the West Wing!" he retorted eventually.

"And you should learn to control your temper!" Belle said sharply.

The Beast started. Then he looked accusingly over Belle's shoulder, where Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth were all looking extremely innocent.

Belle sighed silently. "Now, hold still," she said, more gently. "This may sting a little."

She put the cloth back to his wounds. This time, the Beast bit his tongue. His paws pattered rapidly against the floor as he tried not to yell.

"By the way," Belle said quietly after a moment, "thank you for saving my life." She didn't look up as she said it.

The Beast looked at her in surprise, forgetting about the pain for a moment. "...You're welcome," he said.

Belle blinked and looked up at him. Their eyes met. She realized suddenly that his weren't yellow, like she'd thought before. They were green, and flecked with about a half a dozen other colors. They were surprisingly pretty.

Huddled quietly a little way away, the other three looked on. "Well, that's more like it," Mrs. Potts whispered approvingly. "I knew they could get along if they tried."

"So," Lumiere said, "ze ice is broken at last."

"And not a moment too soon, either," agreed Cogsworth. "Have you taken a good look at the Rose lately? It's losing petals at an alarming rate!"

Mrs. Potts nodded. "Not to mention the fact that I can hardly bend over at all anymore," she said.

"Clearly, it is time for us to give zem a little push," Lumiere said. "We must find a nice, romantic way to draw zem closer togezzer."

"I have just the thing," Mrs. Potts said, her eyes lighting up. She bustled over to Belle and the Beast, who had moved past their moment awkwardly. "How about we warm you two up a bit with a nice bowl of soup?"

"Soup?" Lumiere and Cogsworth asked simultaneously, looking at each other.

Mrs. Potts shushed them. "Trust me!" she said, and left.

Belle kept tending to the Beast's wounds, wrapping bandages. As she did, she marveled to herself about what had happened.

_"There's something sweet,_

_"And almost kind,_

_"But he was mean, and he was coarse and unrefined!" _She glanced up at the Beast, who looked away quickly. She thought that he would have been blushing if he'd been human, and she smiled.

_"And now he's dear, _

_And so unsure!_

_"I wonder why I didn't see it there before?"_

By the time Mrs. Potts came back with the soup, the Beast was clean and bandaged, although they'd given up on trying to salvage the shirt. Mrs. Potts wheeled her cart in front of the Beast's chair, and he moved uncertainly to help Belle move hers, glancing at Lumiere and Cogsworth every so often as if for advice. He ended up knocking her legs out from underneath her when he tried to push the chair in for her. "Oof!" Belle exclaimed. The Beast winced and hurried to his own chair.

Belle smiled to herself and started to eat her soup. Soon it became apparent that the Beast hadn't used utensils in a while, because he leaned down to his bowl and started drinking it like a dog. Belle picked up her bowl, and the Beast looked up. She made to toast him with it, accidentally brushing his paw with her elbow as she did, and drank out of the side.

"Cheers!" Chip said cheerfully as the Beast copied Belle's motions. Belle smiled.

They drank their soup in hesitant silence.

When they were done, Mrs. Potts touched Belle's shoulder gently. "Come along, dearie," she said. "Let's get you off to bed."

Belle got up obligingly, but glanced back at the Beast. He had some soup on his whiskers. She motioned to him that he should wipe it off, which he did, watching her until she left the room.

Then he rose and walked away, full of energy.

_"She glanced this way,_

_"I thought I saw,_

_"And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw!_

_"No, it can't be,__"_ he said, shaking his head sternly.

_"I'll just ignore..._

_"But then, she's never looked at me that way before."_

Cogsworth and Lumiere were approaching. He moved to meet them. "When she smiles at me, I get all choked up," he told them. "My heart starts pounding, and I can hardly breathe!"

"Good!" Cogsworth said.

The Beast blinked. "That's good?" he asked.

"Excellent!" Lumiere said, nodding encouragingly.

The Beast ran his hands through his mane, strangely energized. He couldn't stay still. "I've never felt this way about anyone," he said, awestruck. "I want to give her something...but what?"

"Well, there's the usual things," Cogsworth said. "Flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep..."

The Beast looked at him oddly.

"No, no no!" Lumiere said. "Zis is no ordinary girl. It has to be somezing special, somezing to spark 'er interest! Somezing...ah!" He motioned the Beast down and whispered a word into his ear.

The Beast's eyes went wide. "What? Are you sure?" he asked.

Lumiere nodded.

"Well..."

The Beast wanted to race to Belle's room and tell her immediately, but it was too late at night. It would just have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Tomorrow came soon enough. The Beast was pacing in the dining room while Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, and Lumiere waited along the wall. There was food laid out on the table for breakfast once Belle arrived.

She was dressed already when she came downstairs. She came into the dining room in an asymmetrical pink dress of Babette's that was just barely long enough to fit her, with her usual clipped-up twist of hair and tan workboots. The Beast opened his mouth to say something, and then realized he had nothing.

"Say somezing about ze dress," Lumiere hissed.

The Beast fumbled for words. "It's...pink!" he cried eventually. Belle blinked and let out a little shocked laugh.

"A compliment!" Lumiere reprimanded.

"Oh," the Beast said. He looked at Belle. "What a...nice dress," he said.

Belle smiled. "Thank you," she said, and then laughed. "I haven't worn a dress since I was about seven. It feels weird."

"Belle, I have something to show you," the Beast said then, crossing the room quickly. "But first, you have to close your eyes. It's a surprise!"

The excitement in his voice was tangible. Belle obliged, and the Beast moved to hurry out.

"Get the girl!" Lumiere exclaimed.

_Oops._ The Beast went back to Belle and took her hand uncertainly. Then he led her out of the dining room and through the halls.

"May I open them?" Belle asked after a moment of hurrying along in the Beast's wake.

The Beast didn't answer for a second. He pushed open the door to the right room and led her inside. "Yes," he said then, "now!"

Belle opened her eyes and gasped. They were in an enormous room full to the brim with dark wooden bookshelves. Every one of the shelves was packed full of books of every size and shape. She stepped further in, craning her neck and turning full circle to take it all in. "I don't believe this!" she cried. "I've never seen so many books in my whole life!"

"You...you like it?" the Beast asked.

Belle nodded, still staring at all the books. "It's wonderful," she said, awestruck.

The Beast swallowed. "Then it's yours," he said. The words came out very matter-of-fact.

Belle's eyes went wide, and she looked at him in shock. He stood in the doorway, seeming very pleased. She looked back. _Wow._

_"New, and a bit alarming!_

_"Who'd have ever thought that this could be?_

_"True that he's no Prince Charming," _she said, glancing over at him and giggling at the thought,

_"But there's something in him that I simply didn't see!"_

She sighed happily, and then one of the titles on the shelf in front of her caught her eye. "This is one of my favorites," she told the Beast, pulling it down. "_King Arthur_." She smiled and looked over at him. "Have you ever read it?"

The Beast cleared his throat. "No," he said.

"Then you don't know what you're missing," Belle said, stroking the cover. "I'd love to read this again... But wait," she said, the idea striking her. She crossed to the Beast and held the book out. "You can read it first."

"No, it's all right," the Beast said uncomfortably, pushing the book back.

"No, really, you," Belle said.

"No, you," the Beast said more forcefully.

Belle's brows knitted in confusion. "No, you," she said, pushing it into his hands.

"No!" the Beast said, shoving the book back with more force than was strictly necessary. Belle blinked up at him in surprise, and he shifted. "I can't."

Understanding dawned. "You never learned to read?" she said.

"Only a little, and long ago," the Beast said, and turned away.

He'd gone several steps before Belle managed to recover her wits. "Well," she called after him, and he paused, "it just so happens that this is the perfect book to read aloud." She retreated to a small table as the Beast turned back, and patted one of the chairs. "Come here. Sit by me."

The Beast hesitated, and then moved to join her at the table. Belle opened up the book and started to read.

Outside of the library, Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Chip were watching the scene.

_"Well, who'd have thought?"_ asked Lumiere.

_"Well, bless my soul," _Mrs. Potts said.

_"Well, who'd have known?"_ Cogsworth wondered.

_"Well, who indeed?"_ Mrs. Potts agreed.

_"And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?"_

_"It's so peculiar!"_

_"Wait and see,"_ they said together,

_"A few days more!_

_"There may be something there that wasn't there before!"_

Cogsworth shook his head in wonder as he and Lumiere wandered away. "Perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before," he said.

"What?" Chip asked.

Mrs. Potts smiled and picked him up. _"There may be something there that wasn't there before,"_ she told him.

"What's there, Mama?" Chip asked, looking up.

"Shh," Mrs. Potts said. "I'll tell you when you're older. Come along, dear, let's give them some privacy."

"Mama?" Chip asked as they headed away.

"Yes, Chip?"

"Will I ever get to be a real boy again?"

Mrs. Potts glanced back at the library. "I hope so," she murmured.

"When will I know?" Chip asked, hopping up to her shoulder.

"Soon," Mrs. Potts said. "If it's to be, it will be very soon now." She smiled. "Come along, son."

* * *

"'Knowing not that this was indeed the legendary sword Excalibur, Arthur tried to draw it from the stone. He tried once, but to no avail. He tried a second time, but still he could not pull it out. Then, for the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword -'"

"So that must mean he's the king!" the Beast said excitedly. He'd been listening to the story intently, staring at the illegible symbols on the page and at Belle in equal measure.

Belle laughed. "Wait and see!" she said. The Beast was so eager. It was infectious. Belle had read _King Arthur_ at least half a dozen times, but the Beast's excitement almost made it feel like the first time again.

The Beast sat back and stared at the book, shaking his head in awe. "I never knew that books could do that," he said.

"Do what?"

The Beast gestured vaguely to the mansion and said, "Take me away from this place, and make me forget, for a little while."

Belle looked up at him. "Forget?" she asked.

"Who I..." The Beast's face darkened, and he looked away. "_What _I am."

_Oh._

God, that was familiar.

Belle looked down at the table for a moment. Then, very quietly, she said, "We have something in common, you know."

It took a second for the Beast to respond. "What?" he asked.

Belle looked up across the room. "In the town where I come from," she said, "the people think I'm...odd."

The Beast looked at her. "You?" he asked. Belle smiled sadly at the shock in his tone.

"So I know how it feels to be different," she explained. Then, after a beat of hesitation, she put a hand on his. The Beast started. "And I know how lonely that can be."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Belle remembered what it was they hand been doing. She turned her attention back to the book.

"'For the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword,'" Belle read, grasping the Beast's hand softly. "'And there arose from the people a great shout: 'Arthur is king!'"

"Told you so," the Beast said.

Mrs. Potts walked down the hallway, pushing a cart with food in front of her. She paused outside of the library, and glanced at Lumiere, who was passing by. "They're still in there?" she asked.

"Yes," Lumiere said, nodding. "And so far, 'e 'as been a perfect gentleman!"

Chip hopped up on Mrs. Potts's shoulder and glanced in through the frosted window. He jumped up excitedly. "You know what, Mama?" he asked. "I've got a funny feeling inside. I don't know what it is, but it makes me feel kind of bubbly!"

Mrs. Potts smiled and gathered him into her arms. "It's hope, son," she said, glancing inside. "I've been feeling it, too."

"Oui, my little friend," Lumiere said, beaming. "The day we 'ave waited for may be at 'and!"

"If only that were true, Lumiere," Mrs. Potts sighed.

Lumiere closed his eyes dreamily. "'Uman again," he said as Babette drifted down the hall towards them.

"Human again," Mrs. Potts agreed.

"Yes," Lumiere said. "Zink what zat means!

_"I'll be cooking again,_

_"Be good-looking again,_

_"With a mademoiselle on each arm!"_ He smiled and extended his arms to Babette and Mrs. Potts, who obliged laughingly.

_"When I'm human again!_

_"Only human again, _

_"Poised and polished and gleaming with charm._

_"I'll be courting again, _

_"Chic and sporting again!"_

_"Which should cause several husbands alarm!" _Mrs. Potts said.

_"I'll hop down off my shelf,"_ Chip said.

_"And tout d'suite, be myself!"_

_"I can't wait to be human again!"_

Mrs. Potts and Babette joined together in a two-part harmony. _"When we're human again,_

_"Only human again,_

_"When we're knicknacks and whatnots no more!"_

_"Little push, little shove," _Chip said,

_"They could - whoosh! - fall in love!"_

_"Ah, won't that all be top drawer?"_ sighed Madame, upstairs in Belle's room. She couldn't hear the song, but the rumors of Belle's and the Beast's budding friendship had reached everywhere.

_"I'll wear lipstick and rouge, _

_"And I won't be so huge!_

_"Why, I'll easily fit through that door!_

_"I'll exude savoir faire,_

_"I'll wear gowns - I'll have hair!_

_"It's my prayer to be human again!"_

Downstairs, Cogsworth had made his way to the hall in front of the library. Several other things had heard, too, and they were making their way over.

_"When I'm human again," _Cogsworth sang,

_"Only human again,_

_"When the world once more starts making sense,_

_"I'll unwind for a change -"_

_"Really? That'd be strange,"_ Lumiere said, grinning.

_"Can I help it if I'm t-t-tense?" _snapped Cogsworth.

_"In a shack by the sea, I'll sit back sipping tea._

_"Let my early retirement commence!_

_"Far from fools made of wax, _

_"I'll get down to brass tacks and relax -"_

_"When I'm human again!"_

The things had massed in the hallway.

_"So sweep the dust from the floor,_

_"Let's let some light in the room!_

_"I can feel, I can tell: someone might break the spell any day now!"_

_"Shine up the brass on the door,"_ Lumiere said.

_"Alert the dustpail and broom!" _added Babette.

_"If it all goes as planned, our time may be at hand any day now!"_

_"Open the shutters and let in some air!"_

_"Put these here and put those over there!"_

_"Sweep up the years of sadness and tears, and throw them away..."_

Inside the library, Belle and the Beast read on, oblivious. "'When Guinevere heard that Arthur was slain, she stole away to a convent,'" Belle read. "'And no one could ever make her smile again.'" She closed the book and looked up at the Beast. "That's the end," she said.

The Beast swallowed. "What a...beautiful story," he said thickly. He decided now that it may have been a good thing he wasn't able to cry.

Belle smiled. "I knew you would like it," she said. As she stood up to return the book to its proper place, she said, "I would like to ask you for something."

The things outside the room perked up.

"What's that?" the Beast asked.

Belle swallowed. "A second chance." She turned around to face him. "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

The Beast's eyes went wide, and the things went into a frenzy. "Dinner?" the Beast asked. "Me? With you? That'd be..." He searched for words and came up with nothing but an excited grin. "Oh, yes!"

_"When we're human again, _

_"Only human again,_

_"When the girl finally sets us all free -_

_"Cheeks a-bloomin' again,_

_"We're assumin' again_

_"We'll resume our long-lost joie de vie!_

_"We'll be playin' again,_

_"Holidayin' again,_

_"And we're prayin' its ASAP!_

_"When we cast off this pall, we'll stand straight, we'll walk tall!_

_"When we're all that we were, thanks to him, thanks to her,_

_"Coming closer and closer and closer and closer _

_"And closer and closer, and we'll be_

_"Dancing again!_

_"We'll be twirling again!_

_"We'll be whirling around with such ease!_

_"When we're human again, _

_"Only human again, _

_"We'll go waltzing those old one-two-threes!_

_"We'll be floating again, _

_"We'll be gliding again,_

_"Stepping, striding as fine as you please!_

_"Like a real human does!_

_"I'll be all that I was!_

_"On that glorious morn when we're finally reborn_

_"And we're all of us human again!"_

* * *

"I'll never get the hang of this!" The Beast growled softly and shoved the paper away.

"Yes, you will," Belle said. "You already know the letters, even if it's from a long time ago. And this is a simple one. Just try."

The Beast snorted grumpily, but he looked back down at the writing. "It's... The first one... The first letter is an _r_."

Belle nodded. "See, you can do it," she said. "You just have to be patient!" She pulled the paper closer. "Okay?"

"...Okay," the Beast said. His brow furrowed in concentration. "R...e...read. It says read," he said triumphantly.

"_Read_," Belle said, correcting him. He'd read the _e _and the _a_ as two separate sounds. She smiled. "See, it's not bad."

The Beast wrinkled his nose. "I thought _read _would be spelled differently," he said. "With...two _e_'s. Or something."

Belle laughed. "English is a strange language," she said. "We don't see it as much, because we've grown up with it, but when you talk to someone like Lumiere, who isn't a native speaker, you see how odd it is. And that's saying something, because French has a few oddities of its own."

"You know French?" the Beast asked.

"Some," Belle admitted. "I took it all through high school."

The Beast sat back and shook his head. "How do you know all these things?" he asked.

"Reading, for the most part," Belle said, shrugging. "I'd figured out how by the time I was three or four, and I haven't really stopped since." She smiled wryly. "I got a lot of trouble about it."

"Why?" the Beast asked.

Belle shrugged again. "Well," she said, "one problem is that I tended to read during class when I was supposed to be paying attention to the teacher. But mostly it was with the other kids. By about third grade, they'd stopped thinking it was cool that I could read well and that I made up stories, and they decided I was just odd."

The Beast watched her. "I don't think you're odd," he said.

Something warm rushed through her, and she smiled shyly. "Thank you," she said.

"I never learned properly," the Beast said then. "I was alone with the servants by the time I turned five. They didn't push me very hard to do things I didn't want to do."

Belle looked over at him. "Alone?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"My parents died," the Beast said. Before Belle could say anything, he held up a hand and said, "I don't miss them. I hardly remember them now. It was a long time ago." He shrugged.

They fell silent. Belle's hand moved to her locket, and she fingered it gently.

"What are you doing?" the Beast asked finally.

"Oh," Belle said. "I - thinking. I was thinking."

"About what?"

Belle glanced down at the locket. "My mother," she said. "She...she died when I was thirteen."

"I'm sorry," the Beast said uncertainly.

Belle shook her head. "Don't be. It was five years ago. I miss her, but... I've accepted it. I've moved on."

After a moment, Belle picked up her pencil and pulled the paper towards her. "Okay," she said. "Let's try another one." She started to write, but the Beast put a hand over hers and made her stop. She looked up. "What?"

"I want to say something," he said. "About what happened in the West Wing."

"Oh," said Belle. She looked down, pulling her hand away. "I won't go up there again."

The Beast shook his head. "That's not it," he said. "I wanted... I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Belle looked up in surprise. "You don't need to -"

"Yes, I do," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." He looked away. "What I did scared me. I'd never hurt anyone before, no matter how angry I got." He swallowed. "At first, I thought it was only the others who were changing a little at a time, but I've been starting to think that maybe I was wrong. Every day I've been getting angrier. I've been losing self-control, and I never had much to begin with." His hands tightened into fists on his knees. "I'm afraid that if the spell doesn't break, I'll lose the last shreds of my humanity."

A chill ran down Belle's spine at the desperation in his voice. She shook her head, trying to find the words to reassure him.

"You're not," she said. "You won't. You're -" She bit her lip. "There is nothing more human than getting angry and desperate when you're isolated. Trust me, I know."

The Beast didn't respond. Belle touched his arm gently. "Listen to me," she said. "Don't give up on yourself. If you do that, then you'll really be lost."

"You couldn't understand," the Beast growled, still not looking at her.

Belle stared at him. "'Couldn't understand'?" she asked, shooting out of her chair. "I've been an outcast for just as long as you - and unlike you, I've had an entire town to deal with. The people around you at least had an idea of what you were going through. I didn't even feel comfortable in my own home! And of the only two people who even came close to understanding how I felt, one of them _died_, and the other one..." She shook her head. "Everyone thought Papa was just as odd as me, but _he _didn't care. _I _did. So don't give me any BS about not being able to understand."

That got his attention. He looked back at her. She held his gaze for what felt like a long time. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry, Belle."

She looked away. "So am I," she said. "I shouldn't have snapped."

They were quiet. Then the Beast stood up. "Would you like to go outside?" he asked. "There's a garden, and we have time before dinner..."

Belle paused. "I'd like that," she said finally.

The Beast took her hand, and they headed outside.

* * *

It took almost a week for Gaston to finally set his plan in motion. Getting hold of the right person proved to be a problem in and of itself, and even once that was accomplished, he had to wait several days before the man put his affairs and order and got on the road. But finally he arrived in Pequeno. Gaston had secured a room off of the main bar in the town's tavern to meet with him.

At eight o'clock, a shape with white-blond hair _a la _Lucius Malfoy and dressed all in black stepped inside. Gaston and Lefou rose to meet him.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Monsieur D'Arque," Gaston said, reaching out to shake his hand. D'Arque shook once with a crushing, clammy grip, ignored Lefou's outstretched hand entirely, and sat down in the chair at the head of the table, which Gaston had planned on taking for himself. Gaston hid a frown.

"Yes, yes... I don't usually leave the asylum at all," he said dispassionately, "but this...fellow said you'd make it worth my while." He indicated Lefou with a slight tilt of his head.

Gaston nodded and took the chair across from D'Arque. "Look," he said. "I've got my heart set on marrying this girl, Belle. But she needs a little...persuasion."_  
_

"Turned him down flat," Lefou said. Gaston whacked him and he shut up, rubbing his arm.

Gaston rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the subject at hand. "It's like this, see," he said.

_"There's a danger I'll be thwarted,_

_"And denied my honeymoon,_

_"For the pretty thing I've courted_

_"Refuses to swoon!_

_"So the time has come for a murky plan _

_"For which I turn to a murky man..."_

_"To find that fiend," _Lefou said, _"where better than -"_

_"The Maison des Lunes!"_

Gaston stood up and crossed the room. _"I don't take this girl for granted._

_"There's no path I haven't hewn_

_"To her heart; no seed unplanted,_

_"No flowers unstrewn. _

_"But, quite amazing to relate,_

_"She doesn't want me for her mate!"  
_

_"Which forces him to contemplate -"_

_"The Maison des Lunes!"_

Gaston and Lefou looked at D'Arque expectantly. He was hesitating, clearly thinking. Then he said, _"I don't wish to seem a tad obtuse,_

_"But I don't see how I can be of use!_

_"For I lock people up - I'm not a 'Lonely Hearts Club'!_

_"I'm a cold, cold fish._

_"I've a nasty vicious streak." _His hand shot out and snagged Lefou's neck. Lefou cringed at the man's hands and nails, which were cold and hard as rock.

"Please, speak!" he squeaked to Gaston.

Gaston strode towards them and yanked Lefou away roughly. _"It's Belle's father who's your client,"_ he told D'Arque. _"She adores the old buffoon. _

_"She'll be forced to be compliant!"_

_"She'll dance to your tune!"_

_"We get the daughter through her dad -_

_"You just pronounce the old boy mad!"_

_"And whoosh, he's slammed up in your pad..."_

_"The Maison des Lunes,"_ they all sang, D'Arque stroking his chin thoughtfully.

_"Do I make myself entirely clear?"_ Gaston asked.

D'Arque nodded, a chilly smile spreading across his hyena-like face. _"It's the simplest deal of my whole foul career!"_

_"Put Maurice away and she'll be here in moments in a dreadful state._

_"She'll capitulate to me!"_

_"Oh, I'll be strapping up an inmate!"_ He grabbed Lefou and pulled him into a straitjacket hold.

"Very tightly," squeaked Lefou.

_"Very soon,"_ Gaston agreed, pulling Lefou free again.

_"But please don't bring him in late,"_ D'Arque said quickly. _"Our check-in time's noon!"_

_"So wave one bachelor goodbye!"_

_"She'll be my bride!"_

_"She'd rather die,"_ Lefou said. He didn't realize he'd said it aloud until Gaston grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him close. He scrambled for something redeeming. _"Than have her daddy..."_

"Ossify?" suggested D'Arque, and Gaston let go. Lefou sighed in relief. _"In my sordid saloon!"_

_"So book the church, raise glasses high_

_"To the Maison des Lunes!"_


	5. Chapter 5

When I'm writing, one of the things I like to do is get up and act out the scene I'm working on. It helps me figure out dialogue and how the characters move, which is nice. This morning I was trying to figure out the end of this chapter, where I had the Beast sitting down on the stairs, so I headed over to our stairs and tried it out. I took a couple slow steps down and then tried to sit - and only managed to get half of my arse on the stair. I slid down and hit the next stair with a _thump_ and just sort of lounged there, not entirely sure what had happened.

This is why I don't play sports, seriously. That, and I'm terrified of the ball. Books and the stage are so much safer.

* * *

The end of the week found Belle sitting in her room, wrapped in a too-big bathrobe that Madame had given her, trying to pin up her hair with a bunch of accessories that she only really knew from movies and the other girls at school. She'd been trying for the past ten minutes, and hadn't managed to get anything that looked okay. All her attempts ended in a lumpy, straggly mess.

She sighed heavily and sat back in the chair. _I don't know what I'm doing,_ she thought frustratedly. She had wanted to actually do something with her hair for once. "Madame," she said, "is there any chance you could help me with this?"

Madame shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't," she said. "But I can call for Babette if you like. She'll know how to tell you what to do."

Belle paused, and then conceded defeat. "Yes, please," she said. "I can't figure this out." _And I want this to be good. _

Madame bustled to the bell and rang while Belle plucked the last few bobby pins out of her hair. She let it fall in a dark curtain over her shoulders and turned her attention to her face. Not that it mattered. Even if she'd wanted to do makeup, she didn't have any.

Babette arrived in just a couple minutes, and she was eager to help. A curling iron, dozens of pins, and fifteen minutes later, her hair was done. Soft ringlets fell across the back of her neck as she turned from side to side, examining it. "Thank you, Babette," she said. "It looks amazing."

"Eet was nozzing," Babette said modestly. "I merely pointed. You did all ze work."

Belle smiled and didn't bother arguing.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Belle called.

Mrs. Potts bustled inside, carrying a mass of golden fabric. "It's ready!" she said excitedly. "Come on, dearie, let's put it on."

She unfurled the dress and unzipped the back as Belle slipped out of her robe. They slid it on over her head and zipped it back up. The fabric was soft against Belle's skin, and it hugged her shape gently. Once she'd struggled her way into a standing position in the silver heels, she made her way over to the mirror.

Her eyes went wide. The girl in the mirror was barely recognizable as being her. She stared back at Belle with large, liquid eyes and a shocked expression. Her skin seemed to glow, and she had an aura of delicate beauty, like a china doll. "Wow," Belle whispered, and smiled.

"You're forgetting something, dear," Madame said. She picked up Belle's locket and handed it to Mrs. Potts, the only one of the three things who had hands suited to the job. Mrs. Potts fastened the locket around Belle's neck and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You look beautiful," she said.

* * *

"Tonight is ze night," Lumiere said bracingly as Cogsworth tied the Beast's tie. "Ze night to confess your love!"

The Beast pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "I don't think I can do this," he said. His voice shook.

"You must," Cogsworth said, tugging at the tie reproachfully. The Beast stopped squirming and let him finish tying it.

As he did, Lumiere asked, "You care for ze girl, don't you?"

The Beast nodded. "More than anything." He looked down, not meeting either of the things' eyes as he made the confession.

"Zen why not tell 'er?" Lumiere asked.

The Beast shook his head. "I can't!" he said.

"You must!" Cogsworth said. The Beast turned away.

Lumiere shushed Cogsworth and put a candle on the Beast's arm. "Zere will be beautiful music," he said, "romantic candlelight - provided by myself - and then, when ze moment is right..."

"How will I know if the moment is right?" the Beast asked, turning on him.

"You'll feel slightly nauseous," Cogsworth said.

Lumiere scowled. "No, no, no!" he said, and turned to the Beast. "You will know because you will feel it _'ere_." He placed a candle over the Beast's heart. The Beast looked at him doubtfully. "And you must speak from ze 'eart!"

"I must speak from..." He growled in quiet frustration. "I can't!"

"You must!" This time, it was Lumiere and Cogsworth both who said it. Lumiere continued: "What are you afraid of?"

The Beast scowled. "Nothing," he snapped, stalking across the room.

"Master..." Cogsworth said knowingly.

The Beast didn't turn. He stared determinedly out the window. "I'm afraid she might..." he said quietly, and hesitated.

Cogsworth took a step towards him. "Might what?"

The Beast struggled for the words. He didn't want to say it, even to himself.

"Laugh at me," he admitted finally.

Lumiere and Cogsworth both looked at him sympathetically. Cogsworth put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Some'ow, my boy," Lumiere said, "you must find ze courage to take zat chance."

The Beast looked down. _I don't know that I can._

"Master," Cogsworth said quietly, "look at the Rose. There's so little time left..."

All three of them glanced at the Rose, which was hanging onto only two wilting petals. The Beast's stomach churned unpleasantly. "I really don't think I can do this," he said desperately.

Lumiere and Cogsworth glanced at each other, and Lumiere nodded to something. "Zis may 'elp to bolster your courage," he said as Cogsworth grabbed whatever it was and held it up.

It was the Mirror, but with no target specified, it simply reflected the room. Cogsworth held it up in front of the Beast, who looked at the image and started. "Oh," he said. He touched his mane, which had been somewhat tamed and pulled back. Lumiere and Cogsworth had gotten Mrs. Potts to make him a suit, and the Beast had forced himself into it and groomed himself. The face in the mirror looked almost handsome.

Lumiere smiled. "You can do it, Master," he said. "I know you can!"

* * *

Belle and the Beast entered the dining room at the same time, and they both stopped dead in their respective doorways when they saw each other. They were awestruck. It took a gentle push from Lumiere to set the Beast moving, breaking the breathless spell. Belle and the Beast met alongside the middle of the table, and the Beast took Belle's hand and helped her into her chair. He seated himself across from her. They started to eat, making quiet conversation. The Beast couldn't keep his eyes off of Belle, nor could Belle keep hers off of the Beast.

Mrs. Potts smiled to herself.

_"Tale as old as time," _she sang.

_"True as it can be,_

_"Barely even friends, _

_"Then somebody bends_

_"Unexpectedly."_

As they finished their food, the two of them leaned closer across the table, falling into the pattern of easy conversation that had grown up between them in the past week.

_"Just a little change -_

_"Small to say the least!_

_"Both a little scared, _

_"Neither one prepared._

_"Beauty and the Beast!"_

An idea crossed Belle's mind, and before she could get scared and talk herself out of it, she stood up and held a hand out to the Beast. "Dance with me?" she asked.

The Beast's eyes went wide. "No," he stammered, "I -"

"Dance with her!" Cogsworth and Lumiere hissed. Startled, the Beast jumped up. Belle laughed and took his hand.

"I don't know how to dance," the Beast whispered as they moved together.

Belle smiled and helped him place his hands. "Neither do I," she told him, and put her arms around his shoulders.

_"Ever just the same!_

_"Ever a surprise!_

_"Ever as before,_

_"Ever just as sure_

_"As the sun will rise!"_

Belle and the Beast turned on the spot in a slow circle, looking at each other silently. Dark eyes met bright, jewellike green ones as they danced.

_"Tale as old as time_

_"Tune as old as song_

_"Bittersweet and strange,_

_"Finding you can change!_

_"Learning you were wrong..."_

Gently, Belle laid her head against the Beast's chest. The Beast blinked, looking down at her. Then, slowly, he smiled and pulled her closer, bowing his head so that he could feel her hair against his face.

_"Certain as the sun_

_"Rising in the east -_

_"Tale as old as time!_

_"Song as old as rhyme. _

_"Beauty and the Beast._

_"Tale as old as time,_

_"Song as old as rhyme:_

_Beauty and the Beast."_

She smiled, and then glanced down. "Off to the cupboard with you now, Chip," she told her son quietly. "It's past your bedtime." As she and the others left, she looked at the pair over her shoulder. "Goodnight, loves!"

* * *

"Thank you for asking me to dinner."

They had gone outside after the others had left and were sitting in the back garden. The night air was cool against Belle's skin, but the Beast's hand was warm.

Belle smiled. "Dinner was wonderful," she told him.

The Beast smiled, too. Then he said, "Belle, I..."

When he didn't continue, Belle tilted her head. "Yes?" she asked.

"Are you happy here?" the Beast asked hastily.

Belle blinked at the unexpected question, but she nodded. "Oh, yes!" she said. "Everyone's so kind - Mrs. Potts, Lumiere..."

"With me," the Beast interrupted.

Belle looked up at him. His features were faint in the starlight, but she knew he was looking straight at her. She smiled and put her hand on top of his.

"Yes," she told him.

The Beast went warm and he glanced away quickly. _I must speak from... the heart!_ Cogsworth's and Lumiere's voices echoed the words in his head.

But when he looked back at Belle, she'd looked away. She was sitting differently. It looked to him like she was thinking about something else entirely.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her.

She jumped and looked back at him. "I was just thinking about my father," she said, and glanced away. "I miss him so much. I wish there was some way I could see him again."

The Beast looked away. Then his eyes went wide, and he turned back to Belle. "There is a way!" he said loudly, startling her. He stood up, pulling her up behind him. Then he led her back inside, through the halls, and up the stairs into the West Wing.

He pushed open the door to his room and grabbed the Mirror off of the desk. "This mirror," he said, holding it out to her. "It will show you anything - anything you wish to see."

Belle took it carefully, her eyes wide. "I'd like to see my father, please," she said hesitantly, not entirely convinced that it would work.

The Mirror's surface went cloudy, and then it revealed a new scene. Belle gasped with pleasure as Maurice's face came into view. But her excitement quickly changed to horror.

"Oh, no! Papa!" she cried, clutching the Mirror. "Something's wrong! I think he's lost! He's in...he's in the desert somewhere." No car, no supplies, no nothing. "I should - I should -"

"Go to him."

Belle went still. Then she looked up at the Beast. "What?"

He seemed to struggle with the words. Then he forced them out again: "You should - you should go to him."

For the first time in a week, Belle's mind flashed to the reason she was in the mansion in the first place. "But what about -?"

"You're not my prisoner anymore," the Beast said, shaking his head. "You haven't been for a long time."

Something warm bloomed in Belle's chest. She moved to hand the Mirror back to him, but he shook his head.

"Take this with you," he said, "so you will always have a way to look back and remember me."

Belle looked up at him and touched his face gently. "I could never forget you," she said softly.

The Beast's heart fluttered. "Belle," he said, "I..."

Heat rushed though Belle's cheeks. "Yes?"

The Beast struggled, trying to get out the right words. But he couldn't. "Go," he gasped finally. "Go!"

Belle jumped and nodded. She picked up her skirt and hurried out, trying not to stumble over her heels. The Beast followed her out slowly, pausing at the top of the stairs. When Belle reached the bottom, she stopped and looked back up. There was so much she wanted to say, but for the first time in her life, words completely failed her.

"Thank you," she said eventually. "For everything."

And she turned and ran.

The Beast watched her until the trail of her gown disappeared through the door. He took several unsteady steps down the stairs, and then he collapsed onto a step. He couldn't breathe. It felt like something had been ripped out of him.

"I will never see her again," he choked.

Everything around him went dim.

It wasn't until a voice spoke from only a few feet away that the Beast realized someone else had appeared. "Well, sire, I must say, everything's been going just swimmingly!"

It was a long moment before the Beast looked up. There he saw Cogsworth, Lumiere, and Mrs. Potts standing several steps below him, looking excited.

It was even longer before he could make himself speak. "I let her go."

The smile froze on Cogsworth's face. "You what?"

Lumiere looked like he'd just been slapped. "Why would you do zat?" he asked.

The Beast avoided their gazes. The line of reasoning that had led him to the decision seemed incredibly flimsy now. "I...had to," he said lamely.

"But why?" Cogsworth asked desperately.

_Because I want her to be happy. And if she hadn't been able to help her father, she wouldn't have been._

He and Mrs. Potts looked at each other, and understanding passed between them. The Beast lurched up and stumbled back to his room.

"After all this time," Mrs. Potts whispered, "he's finally learned to love."

Cogsworth and Lumiere exchanged confused looks. "Zat's it, zen," Lumiere said, half hopeful, half desperate. "Zat should break ze spell!"

Mrs. Potts shook her head. "It's not enough. She has to love him in return."

A cold, heavy feeling draped itself over all of them.

"And now it's too late," Cogsworth whispered.

* * *

The Beast went into his room. It all felt empty now. There was nothing left of Belle here. No pictures, no clothes, not even the Mirror so he could see her. All that was there was a faint trace of her scent, which would disappear the first time a breeze blew through the mansion.

Slowly, he moved to the bed and leaned against the frame.

_"No spell has been broken_

_"No words have been spoken_

_"No point anymore, if she can't love me."_

He sat down heavily.

_"No hope she would do so; _

_"No dream to pursue, so_

_"I finally know that I will always be_

_"In this hopeless state_

_"And condemned to wait_

_"Wait for death to set me..._

"Free," he choked. His head fell into his hands, and even though the tears never came, he sobbed and howled until he could hardly breathe anymore.

And another petal fell.


	6. Chapter 6

"We're finally home, Papa," Belle said, pushing open the door and helping him inside. They made it to the stairs before Belle gave up. "Here," she said, helping him down. "Rest here."

She sat down on the stair next to him and rested her head against the wall. _God, I'm exhausted._ She'd been driving for the past nine hours. The sun was coming up.

"I don't know what happened," Maurice said. "The last thing I remember was falling..."

"Papa, you were in the desert somewhere," Belle told him. "I thought I'd never find you."

He fell silent. Then he said, "But - the Beast! How did you escape?"

Belle closed her eyes and shook her head. "I didn't escape," she said. "He let me go."

"He let you go? That terrible beast?" The shock in Maurice's voice was palpable. Belle opened her eyes and sat up. She took Maurice's hand.

"He isn't terrible," she told him. Then she glanced away. "At the beginning, I was so frightened. I thought it was the end of everything. But somehow, things changed."

Maurice regarded her. Something about her was different. Even now, exhausted and lost in thought, she looked more mature than she had when he'd last seen her. There was peace in her eyes. Maurice had never seen that before.

"How?" he asked quietly.

Belle smiled. "I don't know," she said, laughing softly. "But I see him differently now. It's funny," she said, looking around the shop. It was all so familiar. "When I look around, I see the whole world differently.

_"There's been a change in me._

_"A kind of moving on -_

_"Though what I used to be_

_"I still depend upon._

_"For now, I realize_

_"That good can come from bad._

_"That may not make me wise,_

_"But oh, it makes me glad." _She smiled.

_"And I - _

_"I never thought I'd leave behind_

_"My childhood dreams, _

_"But I don't mind!_

_"For now I love the world I see._

_"No change of heart," _she said, shaking her head,

_"A change in me."_

She rose and walked towards the front of the shop.

_"For in my dark despair, _

_"I slowly understood:_

_"My perfect world out there_

_"Had disappeared for good." _She turned back to look at Maurice.

_"And in its place, I feel _

_"A truer life begin!_

_"And it's so good and real._

_"It must come from within._

_"And I -_

_"I never thought I'd leave behind_

_"My childhood dreams, _

_"But I don't mind!_

_"I'm where and who I want to be._

_"No change of heart -_

_"A change in me."_

She smiled and walked back. When she sat down, she took his hands and met his eyes.

_"No change of heart,"_ she said again,

_"A change in me."_

Maurice looked at her and felt his heart swell with pride. She had grown. He had gotten so used to seeing her as a bookish, daydreaming little girl, and that girl was still there, but she had changed. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she had become a woman.

As they started to make their way upstairs, a loud knock echoed through the building. Both of them glanced at the door, and then at each other. _It's too early for customers,_ Belle thought. "I'll get it, Papa," she said. "It's all right."

She pulled the door open and found herself face-to-face with the chilly, hyenalike smile of Monsieur D'Arque. "Good morning," he said.

Belle pulled back slightly. "Monsieur D'Arque," she said, narrowing her eyes. The man gave her the creeps.

He nodded inside. "We've come to collect your father."

Belle blinked. "What?"

"Don't worry," D'Arque said. "We'll take good care of him." It was only then that Belle noticed the crowd of townspeople behind him, smirking. Some of them looked like they were holding makeshift weapons. They chuckled ominously.

"My father's not crazy," Belle said, planting herself in the doorway.

Snickers rippled through the crowd, and a lanky figure shoved itself forward. "He was raving like a lunatic!" Lefou said. "We all heard him, didn't we?"

The crowd murmured its agreement. D'Arque shoved his way past Belle, and everyone else flowed in through the empty space. Belle found herself separated from Maurice by the mass.

"All right. Come along quietly, now," D'Arque said, gesturing. Norman and Christopher broke out of the crowd and grabbed Maurice's arms.

"You can't do this!" Belle snapped, forcing her way through.

Lefou jumped in front of Maurice. "Just tell us, old man," he said. "Exactly how big was the Beast?"

Maurice scowled at him. "He was enormous," he said defiantly. "He was at least eight - no, more like ten feet tall!"

The townspeople cackled. "You don't get much crazier than that!" Lefou said over the noise.

"It's true, I tell you!" Maurice snapped, and tried to wrench out of Christopher's and Norman's grips. "Let go of me! What are you doing?"

D'Arque stepped forwards. "Tell me, Maurice, how long have you been having these _delusions_?" He laid a delicate stress on the word.

"It was no delusion," Maurice insisted. "The Beast was real - and so was the talking clock!"

That was clearly too much for the crowd, who burst into a side-splitting fit of laughter. Belle's hands curled into fists at her sides as she struggled to control her temper. Anger wouldn't help here. What she needed to do was convince D'Arque to go away, and then -

"Poor Belle."

The voice boomed across the shop and silenced everyone instantly. The crowd parted as Gaston walked through it, hands in his pockets, hiding a triumphant smirk beneath a mask of pity. He stopped several feet away from Belle. "It's a shame about your father."

Belle's jaw tightened. "Gaston," she said seriously, stepping towards him, "you know my father's not crazy." That was it. If she could convince Gaston, the rest would fall into place. Everyone in Pequeno followed him like sheep.

He smirked down at her. "I might be able to clear up this little misunderstanding if..." He left the word hanging.

"If what?" Belle tried very hard not to snap. _I don't have time for mind games right now!_

"If you'll marry me."

A collective gasp ran through the shop. Belle recoiled like she'd been slapped. "What?"

Gaston stepped closer. "One little word, Belle, that's all it takes!" Then he grabbed her and forced her face up to his.

_Eurgh!_

Belle shoved herself away. "Never!" she yelled, and, before she could consciously process the urge, she balled up her fist and aimed a left hook directly at Gaston's face.

The heavy skin-on-skin _thwack! _of it echoed through the suddenly silent room. Everyone had frozen with the shock of what had happened, including Belle and Gaston.

Gaston stood half-turned from the force of the punch, one hand against his throbbing cheek. Something cold was forming in the pit of his stomach. It spread from there, extending ice-cold tendrils through his veins, wrapping itself around his heart and his brain, until the only spot of warmth left was the place where Belle's blow had landed. He straightened slowly, glaring icily at Belle. She stared back, but her stomach turned. She'd never seen anything like the look he was giving her. It looked like he had snapped.

"Have it your way," he growled, and turned. "Take the old man!"

The crowd surged forwards. Belle flung herself between it and Maurice, shouting, "No - No, wait! Wait. I can prove to you my father's not crazy!" The idea hadn't even had time to shape consciously, but she knew what she had to do. She pulled the Mirror out of her bag and turned so that the crowd could see it. Christopher and Norman moved in, and even Gaston's interest was slightly piqued.

"Show me the Beast."

The surface of the mirror went cloudy, and then cleared to show an image of the Beast's room in the West Wing. The Beast was leaning heavily against his bedframe, his face twisted in an expression of pain that made Belle's insides twist sympathetically. Then he raised his head and roared at the sky. The sound reverberated off of the shelves and the walls. Belle bowed her head, fighting back sudden tears. _I'm sorry,_ she thought. _I'm coming back, I promise! I won't leave you alone._

But the townspeople didn't see the sadness that Belle did. They heard the roar and shrieked in fear. "Is he dangerous?" Grace asked, terrified.

Belle's eyes went wide. "Oh, no!" she said, turning to face them. "I know he looks frightful, but he's really very gentle, and kind. He's my..." _Student. Teacher__. Only friend. Someone who really understands me. Someone who isn't put off at all by how odd and broken I am..._

"...Friend," she finished lamely.

A ripple of disbelief ran through the crowd.

Gaston surveyed the scene and saw his opportunity. His original plan was out of the question now, but there was still a way to get what he wanted. He stepped forward, putting a suspicious glare onto his face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have feelings for this monster."

Belle glared at him. "He's not the monster, Gaston," she said. "You are!"

"She's as crazy as the old man!" roared Gaston. "She thinks this creature is her friend! Well, I've hunted wild beasts, and I've seen what they can do. The Beast will make off with your children! He'll come after them in the night!"

The crowd was alive with terrified murmurs. Several mothers stepped protectively in front of younger members of the crowd.

"He would never do that," Belle said, but it was too late. The crowd was Gaston's, and he was whipping it into a mob.

Gaston looked directly at Belle, and the icy, self-centered cunning in his eyes made her skin crawl. "Forget the old man," he said. "I say we kill the Beast!"

"Kill him!" cried the mob.

Christopher stepped forward, all thought of restraining Maurice gone. _"We're not safe until he's dead,"_ he sang.

_"He'll come stalking us at night!" _Matt agreed.

_"Set to sacrifice our children to his monstrous appetite!"_ squeaked Jeannie.

_"He'll wreak havoc on our village if we let him wander free," _D'Arque said.

Gaston stepped to the very center of the mob. _"So it's time to take some action, boys," _he said.

_"It's time to follow me!_

_"Through the mist, through the wood, through the darkness and the shadows_

_"It's a nightmare, but it's one exciting ride._

_"Say a prayer! Then we're there! At the front door of a mansion_

_"And there's something truly terrible inside. _

_"It's a beast! He's got fangs, razor sharp ones. _

_"Massive paws, killer claws for the feast. _

_"Hear him roar, see him foam, but we're not coming home til he's dead!_

_"Good and dead!_

_"Kill the Beast!"_

Belle strode forward. "I won't let you do this," she said determinedly.

"Try and stop us," Gaston said.

She raised her hands, intending to pull him down by his shirt and make him listen to her, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her up. "She's going to try to follow us," he called to the mob. "We need to put her somewhere...so she won't get hurt." He said the last few words very deliberately, holding her gaze darkly. Belle suppressed a shudder.

She struggled to get out of his grip, but she couldn't force his hands apart. He and the mob dragged her out back, to the shed. They flung her and Maurice inside. Belle managed to throw herself against the door before they shut it.

"You can't win this," she hissed through the gap.

Gaston sneered back at her. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked. "I already have. You aren't the only one who saw how sad your stupid little furry friend looked. You destroyed him by leaving. He'll be dead in less than twelve hours." He opened the door just wide enough that Belle could see his whole face. "So what if you're being carted off to D'Arque's? I'm sure he won't care if I check up on you every once in a while." He leered down at her. Her stomach churned, and she slammed herself against the door, doubling her efforts to get out. Gaston slammed it shut on her fingers, and she screamed. "Checkmate, Belle. I win."

The door opened again, just long enough for Belle to reel away, clutching her injured hand and trying not to touch anything with her fingers, which she thought might have been broken. The door shut, and Gaston closed the padlock.

Maurice caught Belle and put an arm over her shoulder. Belle bit back sobs. "Papa, this is all my fault," she whispered. Her mind flashed to the pained expression on the Beast's face, and her stomach turned over. "I have to go back and warn him."

He didn't even question her decision. "I'm going with you," he said.

Belle's eyes snapped wide. "No!" she said, turning to him. _I don't care if they hurt me, but Papa -__  
_

Maurice put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her square in the eye. "I lost you once," he said. "I'm not going to lose you again."

* * *

Outside, Gaston strode back towards the mob. "We'll rid the village of this Beast," he boomed. "Who's with me?"

A split second of silence. He gave a meaningful look to Lefou, who jumped. "I-I am!" he yelled.

"I am!" cried several more people.

And the rest: "I am!"

_"Light your torch, mount your horse,"_

_"Screw your courage to the sticking place!"_

_"We're counting on Gaston to lead the way!"_

_"Through the desert, to a canyon_

_"Where withing a haunted mansion, something's lurking that you don't see every day."_

_"It's a Beast! He's as tall as a mountain._

_"We won't rest 'til he's good and deceased._

_"Sally forth, tally ho, _

_"Grab your shotgun, grab your bow,_

_"Praise the Lord, and here we go!"_

"We'll storm the mansion," Gaston yelled as the mob members piled into their cars, "and bring back his head!"

The air filled with revving engines. Lefou - the only one who knew the way to the canyon - was in the lead car with Gaston. A line of cars and trucks, glittering in the sunlight, made its inexorable way out of town and towards the Beast.

_"We don't like what we don't understand -_

_"In fact, it scares us! And this monster is mysterious at least!_

_"Bring your guns, bring your knives, save your children and your wives_

_"We'll save our village and our lives!_

_"We'll kill the Beast!"_

By the time Belle and Maurice managed to kick their way out of the shed, everyone was long gone. Maurice hopped into the driver's seat of the truck, and Belle maneuvered her way into shotgun, trying to use her right fingers as little as possible. Maurice turned the key in the ignition, and they shot off after the mob.

The sun was beating its track downward as the line of cars reached the edge of the canyon. Gaston led the way down towards the mansion, inside of which the things were panicking.

_"Hearts ablaze, banners high, we go marching into battle_

_Unafraid, although the danger's just increased!_

_"Raise a flag, sing a song, here we come, we're fifty strong _

_"And fifty of us can't be wrong!_

_"We'll kill the Beast!_

_"Kill the Beast!_

_"Kill the Beast!_

"KILL THE BEAST!"

The things stood still and silent as the door creaked open and the mob started to make its way inside. Lefou peered around anxiously. "This place gives me the creeps!"

Gaston shushed him, scowling.

"Well, it does!" Lefou protested.

"Shut up!" Gaston hissed.

He tried, but the whole place make his skin prickle uneasily. "Gaston," he whispered, "I want to go home."

They dispersed through the mansion. And then, suddenly, the first group saw the things.

A shriek tore through the rooms, and everyone jumped. Everything quickly dissolved into chaos, as things gathered their courage and leapt out of the shadows at the mob. Entire groups of townspeople ran out of the mansion, screaming.

Babette was in one of the rooms. She'd succeeded in scaring off a group of older women, who'd sprinted away like death itself was on their heels, but there was another set of footsteps approaching. She turned to see a young man with sandy-ginger hair peer uneasily into the room. He saw her quickly, but didn't run off.

Babette smiled coyly and slinked up to him. "Say," she said, "you're cute."

"Nah," said the boy, pleasantly surprised. Babette flirted him out into the hallway where Lumiere was waiting, wicks lit. When the fire was held to his back, the boy took a moment to notice. Then his eyes went wide and he screamed, dashing clumsily down the hall. Babette giggled.

Cogsworth chased a group of girls out through the foyer. "Tally ho! Tally ho!" he cried above the screams and the sounds of running feet.

* * *

Lumiere made his way up to the West Wing and pounded on the Beast's door. "Master," he called, "the mansion is under attack!"

"It doesn't matter now," the Beast growled through the door. "Let them come."

"Mon Dieu!" moaned Lumiere, and raced to rejoin the battle.

* * *

Back downstairs, a pack of plates was chasing Liesel, Laura, and Veronica out of the dining room. Their screeches were almost high enough to shatter a glass. They tripped over each other trying to get out the front door and scrambled up, still screaming, and ran for the cars. As they did, the corkscrew pirouetted behind a group of screaming women, kicking threateningly until they raced out the door. The plates gave her a high-five, and they left to find more of the mob.

Norman found himself in temporary heaven with a napkin-girl on each arm. They twittered and giggled, moving out into the foyer. Then they spun Norman out, picked up their skirts, and kicked him hard. He stumbled backwards and fell out the door.

Lefou made his way into the dining room cautiously. There was no one in there except Mrs. Potts and Chip.

Mrs. Potts smiled at him kindly. "You look like you could use a nice cup of tea," she said.

"Tea?" Lefou asked. "Why, thank you." He smiled as Mrs. Potts poured tea.

"Here you go!" Chip yelled, and spat it into his face.

Lefou reared up, screaming, as the hot tea hit him square in the eyes. "Take that, you scurvy scum!" Mrs. Potts cried triumphantly.

When Lefou finally managed to open his eyes, the room was deserted. Most of the screaming was fading away. "Where'd everybody go?" he asked.

There was a noise from right beside his foot. He jumped, screeched, and sprinted out of the mansion, holding out his note of terror in a way that would have put Madame to shame.

The pepper pot ran along behind Deborah, flinging pepper at her. She was caught in a sneezing fit, stumbling blindly towards the door. A knife and spoon trailed several terrified men, who almost ran Deborah over in their haste to get out.

And then, finally, the mansion was cleared. The things converged on the foyer, cheering and hugging and high-fiveing like they'd just won the Superbowl.

"We did it!" cheered the plates. "We did it!"

* * *

But the mansion wasn't entirely cleared. Gaston had found his way through the screaming crowds to the West Wing. He followed the tattered hallway down to the only door that didn't have a dusty handle. That was where he would find the Beast. He was certain of it.

Inside, the Beast stood by the window, staring out at the gathering clouds. It looked like there was going to be a storm. He didn't bother to turn when he heard the door opening. It didn't matter anymore.

"Ha!" Gaston shouted, startling the Beast. He turned from the window, and Gaston sneered. "You're even uglier in the flesh."

The Beast couldn't summon up the energy to glare. He turned back to the window and let his head fall.

Gaston frowned.

He crossed the room and grabbed the back of the Beast's shirt, and planted his fist square in his gut. The Beast grunted and doubled over. Gaston shoved him to the floor and he lay there, curled in on himself. _Go away. Leave me in peace..._

"Get up," growled Gaston, and dragged him up. Then he flung him as hard as he could, sending him stumbling across the room. He hit the doorframe and stumbled out, collapsing against the wall in the hallway.

Gaston snorted and stalked out after him. "What's the matter, Beast?" he taunted. "Too kind and gentle to fight back?"

_Kind. Gentle. _The Beast's aching stomach contracted. _Belle told him about me..._

His face twisted, and he turned away.

A cold smile came to Gaston's face, and he laughed. "You were in love with her, weren't you, Beast?" He kicked him, hard, and the Beast went down. "Oh, that's a good one!" He grabbed the Beast's shoulders and dragged him up to his knees. "Did you think a girl like that would want a thing like you? What a fool!"

He flung the Beast down, where he lay, his breath coming in battered sobs. _Stop talking about her. _

"She despises you, Beast!"

A heavy kick landed on the Beast's back.

"She sent me here to destroy you!"

A kick to his gut. In more ways than one.

Denial, anger, despair, pain, all in a wave. _"No!" _he roared.

Gaston pulled him up, putting him into a one-armed headlock and reaching to his belt to draw his hunting knife. "It's over, Beast," he hissed into the Beast's ear. "Belle is mine!"

And then a shout came from the end of the hallway. _"No!"_

Gaston and the Beast looked up to see Belle standing at the top of the stairs, her hair a mess, her chest heaving. Shock ran through Gaston and the Beast, and where Gaston's was followed by anger, the Beast's came with a rising wave of hope and new energy. He jammed an elbow into Gaston's gut, sending him reeling, and turned to fight back.

It wasn't much of a fight. Within seconds, Gaston was pinned against the wall.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Gaston's voice had gone very small. "I'm begging you..."

The Beast's hand was drawn back, claws at the ready to strike, when he realized what he was preparing to do. His stomach dropped, and he glanced at Belle.

She looked from him to Gaston, seeming to debate, and then shook her head infinitesimally.

The hand pinning Gaston to the wall slackened. As Belle approached, the Beast shoved Gaston towards the stairs. "Get out," he growled.

Gaston stumbled towards the stairs. The Beast turned away from him. "Belle," he said, moving towards her slowly. "You came back."

Belle winced at the Beast's pained gait. "I'm sorry," she said. As he stumbled, she moved closer. "Take my hand."

He grasped her hand tightly, and she helped him down the hall and to the doorway of his room. There, she turned and wrapped her arms around him gingerly, hugging him as hard as she dared.

He hugged her back, bent low even though Belle was standing on her toes. Belle buried her face in his chest, breathing him in. He stroked the back of her head, needing to touch her, to make sure she was really there. Her scent wreathed around him, and he sighed.

Then he went stiff as a board as a searing pain stabbed into his back. Belle gasped and leapt back. The Beast staggered into the room, gasping for breath. Gaston stood in the doorway, bloody knife raised. He stalked into the room, eyes alive with rage. He made straight for Belle.

But the Beast managed to get between them. He grabbed Gaston's knife hand and a wrenching, twisting, roaring tug-of war ensued. Blood splattered around the room, flung from the Beast's wound as he writhed for the knife. Finally, with an almighty roar, the Beast twisted the knife from Gaston's grip. But as he did, he sent Gaston reeling into the screen of the open window. He fell through, and his scream was cut short by a distant but sickening _thump__. _

Belle had half a second's shock to spare for Gaston's death before the Beast collapsed onto the floor. She ran and knelt down beside him, looking at the bloody wound in the Beast's back as if for a way to close it up. The Beast's breathing had a slight gurgling edge to it.

"Belle," he gasped. "You came back."

She leaned over him, stroking his hair. "Of course I came back," she said, fighting back the tears that were starting to gather. "I couldn't let them..." She fumbled for words, and pulled the Beast's torso onto her lap. "If only I'd come sooner."

"Maybe it's...better this way." The Beast's words were getting raspier. There was blood in his lungs. Belle could feel it pulsing out onto her shirt, but she didn't move him.

"Don't talk like that," she said fiercely. "Everything will be fine." She knew she couldn't have been very convincing. The tears were shaking in her voice. But she clung to him as hard as she could.

He reached for her face weakly. "Belle, I...I..."

"Shh," Belle said. "We're together now. You'll see."

Very softly, he touched her cheek. "At least...I got to see you...one...last..."

Belle shook her head. If he said anything else, she wouldn't be able to take it. So instead, she sang.

_"We are home,"_ she told him.

_"We are where we shall be forever._

_"Trust in me,_

_"For you know I won't run away!_

_"From today,_

_"This is all that I need,_

_"And all that I need to say._

_"Home should be where the heart is._

_"I'm certain as I can be:_

_"I've found home."_

She repressed a sob. "You're my home," she whispered.

_"Stay with..."_

"Belle." His hand was slipping slowly, but he kept his jewellike eyes trained on hers. "I..."

"Yes?"

"I..."

His breath grew fainter as he tried to gasp out the words. Then there was a long exhale, and his hand dropped from her face.

Belle went cold.

"No," she whispered. "No, please, don't leave me!" She bent over him, and tears splashed down onto his face. And finally, very quietly, she admitted, "I love you."

But the Beast couldn't hear her anymore.

A screaming, heart-rending sob tore from her, and she bent double, shaking. Her hands twisted in the Beast's mane. It was impossible. It was unfair. Finally, after years and years, she'd found someone to love, she'd found someone who cared about her for her, who didn't give a damn that she was bookish or awkward or odd, who she hadn't grown tired of after hours and hours together, who she could have stayed with her entire life - and a cruel trick of fate had ripped him away. The Beast was gone. He was _gone. _

The things who had heard the confrontation stumbled upon the scene and reeled back. Belle didn't even notice them. Her whole body shuddered with sobs.

And then the final petal fell.

For a moment, Belle didn't notice anything. Then she realized that there was smoke curling around her. She coughed, her breath hitching mid-sob, and leaned up slightly. Then the Beast's shape moved.

She gasped and scrambled back.

The smoke curled around the Beast and around the things in the hall, denser and denser until even their shapes were hidden behind its curtain. The Beast's shape rose. Light hit the clouds and refracted, turning them a blindingly brilliant gold. Belle couldn't look away.

And the smoke cleared.

Where the Beast had been, there stood a young man, dressed in clothes which were now too huge, with a ratted mane of tawny hair and a short, scruffy, unkempt beard. He gasped like he was taking his first breath of air after coming up from a deep dive. When he caught sight of his hands, his eyes went wide. He flipped them over, examining every inch, and then took in his arms, his body, his normal size. He put his hands to his face and felt skin in places that had been covered with fur for years. He ran his hands through his hair, laughing in shocked joy - and then his eyes landed on Belle.

She was staring at him in utter shock. Tears still traced their way down her cheeks. Her eyes, even in the relatively short time, had gone red and puffy, and her nose had started to run. But it was Belle. She was there. And he was there.

Slowly, he stepped towards her, holding out his hands. _"Belle, look into my eyes," _he said.

_"Belle, don't you recognize_

_"The beast within the man who's here before you?"_

That voice. Belle's heart seized in hope. She took a slow, uncertain step towards him, searching his face. The shape wasn't familiar, but the eyes - the _eyes_!

"It is you!" she cried, and ran to fling her arms around his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning in a circle. Another, brighter set of tears was starting to make its way down her face, mixing with laughter. Then she pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to take it all in. He was crying, too, but he was beaming so widely that she was surprised his face wasn't splitting in two.

She touched his cheek, her mouth and eyes wide with wonder. "You're alive," she whispered.

"Yes."

"I'm so glad." She traced his cheekbone, his browbone, his nose. He was there.

"So am I," he whispered. Then he pulled her close again.

She clung to him as tightly as she could. _I don't ever want to let go again..._

She looked up, still trying to convince herself that he was really, fully there. "Can I do something?" she asked.

He nodded.

She hesitated, nervous, hoping that books and instinct would be enough. Then she brought her face up to his and kissed him.

* * *

When the smoke in the hallway had cleared, the things looked around at each other in shock. Then huge smiles had broken onto every face, and the hallway became a tangled mess of embraces and joyous shouts.

"Oh, my!" Mrs. Potts said. "Oh, goodness me!" She turned to Lumiere, who was closest.

"Mrs. Potts!" he cried, and flung his arms around her excitedly.

At the end of the hall, Cogsworth appeared at the top of the stairs. "What's happening here?" he called crossly.

Lumiere turned. "Cogsworth!" he said, and ran to embrace him. He planted a kiss on each of his cheeks, prompting Cogsworth's ever-present snap of "Stop it! Stop that!"

Lumiere stepped back, laughing. "Ze spell is broken!"

Cogsworth blinked. "What?"

"We are 'uman again!"

A half a beat while Cogsworth looked down and discovered it to be true, and then he held out his arms. "Lumiere! Come here!" He gathered Lumiere up in a huge bear hug and copied the Frenchman's kisses.

"Stop it! Stop zat!" Lumiere mocked.

It was then that Belle and the ex-Beast spotted the mess in the hallway. They left the room to join the celebrating mass.

"Mrs. Potts!" the ex-Beast cried joyfully, embracing her.

A shocked smile spread across her face, and she looked at him proudly as he pulled away.

"Master," Lumiere said, holding out a hand. The ex-Beast took it and shook once, and then pulled Lumiere into a hug as well.

"Lumiere," he said, patting him on the back as they moved apart. Then, "Cogsworth - oh, my Cogsworth!" He pulled the startled man into another hug, and then turned to Belle. "Come, let's find your father."

Belle jumped. In all the commotion, she had managed to completely forget that Maurice had come to the mansion with her. She grabbed the ex-Beast's hand, and they hurried off.

"Who was that young man?" Cogsworth asked, flustered.

Lumiere looked at him askance. "Ze Master," he said.

Cogsworth blinked, and then shook his head. "No, it wasn't."

"Yes it was," Lumiere told him.

"No, it wasn't," Cogsworth said.

Lumiere snorted. "It most certainly was," he said.

"Yoohoo," called a coy voice, making Lumiere turn. "Bonjour, 'andsome."

Babette stood there, smiling, all the feathers gone. "Babette," Lumiere said, striding through the crowd of people to reach her. "You look so much better." He put his hands on her shoulders and shivered with pleasure. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to touch.

But Babette pulled away, suddenly indigent. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I zought you liked ze way I looked before."

Lumiere backpedaled quickly. "I did!" he said. "It's just...I like you better zis way." He gave her his best smile, hoping the compliment would satisfy her.

It didn't. "So you were lying to me!" she accused.

"No, I wasn't!" Lumiere protested.

"Yes, you were!" she insisted.

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were!"

"Well, maybe a little bit," Lumiere said, exasperated.

Babette paused, and then she traced a finger down his sternum. "Lumiere," she said coyly, "I like you better zis way, too!"

She slinked away, casting a glance over her shoulder. Lumiere shuddered excitedly and took off after her.

They passed someone on the stairs, and a moment later, that someone made a grand entrance into the hallway. Madame de la Grande Bouche, back to her voluptuous self, swept into the crowd, smiling serenely.

Cogsworth's eyes went wide.

"Madame," he said, moving to her, "may I say, you look ravishing!"

She smiled and let him take her hand. "Thank you, Cogsworth," she said. She brushed her dress modestly and asked, "Do you like my gown? I simply can't believe it still fits after all these years..."

"It's magnificence in exelcius," Cogsworth told her.

Madame hid a pleased giggle. "Did you know," she said, "that I wore this the night I performed at the Royal Opera? The king himself was there..."

Cogsworth smiled. "I know, my dear," he said. "You were wonderful." He kissed her hand.

"Oh, Cogsworth," she said.

The hallway had begun to clear by this point, and Mrs. Potts was left nearly alone. Then a voice cut across the hallway: "Mama! Mama!"

Mrs. Potts turned. "Chip!" she cried joyfully, and ran to meet him. She picked him up and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Oh, my boy..." She held him back and took him in. "My boy."

Chip smiled and hugged her again. "Are they going to live happily ever after?" he asked.

Mrs. Potts smiled. "Of course, dear, of course," she told him.

He smiled, and then paused. "Do I still have to sleep in the cupboard?"

Laughing, Mrs. Potts shook her head.

* * *

Five years later, everyone stood beneath a white awning, raising glasses of champagne and cheering Belle and the ex-Beast Adam out onto the floor for a dance. They smiled at each other nervously. They'd danced before the wedding, but never with so many people watching. But they took hands and started to turn.

_"Two lives have begun now!_

_"Two hearts become one now!_

_"One passion, one dream _

_"One thing forever true:_

_"I love you!"_

Adam leaned down and Belle met him halfway. Another burst of cheering exploded out as they kissed, and the music swelled. Maurice, Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, Cogsworth, Babette, Chip, and all the guests beamed and rose to dance with them.

_"Certain as the sun - ah!_

_"Rising in the east!_

_"Tale as old as time!_

_"Song as old as rhyme!_

_"Beauty and the Beast! Ah!_

_"Tale as old as time!_

_"Song as old as rhyme..._

_"Beauty and the Beast!"_

Belle and Adam looked up at each other, all the last nerves gone, and sang three final notes in perfect harmony: _"Ah, ahh, ahhh!"_


End file.
